2120
by Whiskey Adams
Summary: AU,The year is 2120, corruption has poisoned the country and the only thing standing between the mobsters and their goal is the Warehouse-a system of law enforcement agencies that started as private detective agencies now the most powerful and effective crime fighting entity-the only one left uncorrupted. Ex homicide detective Myka Bering is Shanghaied into joining the 13 rendition
1. Prelude: Welcome to the New World

**_Warehouse 13 Fic_**

**_Rating_**_: M - all kinds of adult content i'm sure (language, alcohol, drugs, violence, that kind of thing)_

**_Summary:_**_ Futuristic AU, kinda, The year is 2120, corruption has poisoned the country and the only thing standing between the mobsters and their goal of chaos, destruction and power is the Warehouse- a system of law enforcement agencies that once started as private detective agencies, now the most powerful and effective crime fighting entity- the only one left uncorrupted. ex-homicide detective Myka Bering is Shanghaied into joining the newest rendition of the Warehouse. _

**_Disclaimer_**_: I have nothing to do with Syfy, and I do not own Warehouse 13 or any of the characters. _

**_AN:_**_ This is a brand new AU that i've been working on to keep me from getting worn out with my other work, _

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**Prelude**: Welcome to the New World

The future did not live up to expectations, much like it never does. Technological, engineering and even social advances came to a screeching halt in the middle of the twenty first century as war ravaged parts of the tired planet. The armistice that was called to cease the near constant blood shed held in its contracts that all advances in every field of science be shared freely between the warring countries.

Due to the pride of a handful men who had more money between themselves than the combined means of the countries they ruled, since then there have been no major advancements.

The following fifty years bred corruption and a struggle for power in the United States. After the war and countless scrimmages that followed, America lost what remained of its objective sense of morality on its bloody journey back to the top of the world. He with the most money and bigger forces ruled the world, and that became the United States.

The change with it her own boarders was drastic as well. Corruption poisoned the states since the end of the depression in 2030. The era of the mobsters was reborn. They were more cunning, better connected and far more lethal than those that came before.

Law enforcement agencies, judges, senators, even a few presidents were kept snuggly in the back pockets of the most notorious criminals. It was they who were the movers of the pieces on the chess board. It was they who helped America bounce back with their questionable motives and two wars with competing nations- China and Russia.

The presence of these gangs, these _mobs_, became a normal part of American life. Three competing forces who called themselves family. Their personal grievances and wars, their _influences_ were felt nation wide.

The Hive's strong hold watched over the east coast. Manifestus Fatum had a firm grip on the west coast and half the Sothern states. The Brotherhood's empire expanded in the Midwest and northern states. And they owned and ran everything. They competed with each other constantly over matters of pride, territory, power, _everything_. They wanted their own states to flourish while destroying the others.

This bastardization of the country lead to what came to be called "The Warehouse." Established in New York City, the epicenter of The Hive's power, they strived for something that had been lacking in the country for a long time: Justice. They began as a private detective agency, an alternative for the citizens to turn to. It steadily grew in size and power as it dismantled the mob's headquarters, and the citizens grew to trust them more than the local law enforcement, long since having transformed into its own volatile gang.

They didn't kill The Hive, however, only caused it to move its stronghold south. So Warehouse 2 was built in Florida. It, too, began small, bat gained trust and power in the community in which it was built.

By the time the plans for Warehouse 4 were underway, a president, uncorrupted by money, power or fear, declared the Warehouse a legitimate law enforcement agency with the full backing of the United States government. He lasted only half of one term before his assassination- unsolved to this day- but his decree remained.

Slowly, Warehouses were slowly erected in many eastern states as they chased the Hive out of each one. Warehouse's in Georgia, North Carolina, Massachusetts, West Virginia, Tennessee, Alabama, Ohio, Connecticut, Indiana and in Louisiana. Twelve in all. They worked hard, each with hundreds of agents and dozens of lawyers, each working to rid their states of the Hive, of all corruption.

What the Regents who created this system of Warehouses failed to realize was that, while the Hive's influence was dwindling, the two remaining mobs still had sure footing in their states, and their power was only increasing with the loss of the competition.

Univille, South Dakota, had been a small in the middle of nowhere town once upon a time, before the Brotherhood had planted its roots there in 2098. The town had been dead, closed stores, poor citizens fighting to survive. They had seen the Brotherhood as a saving grace. They had flooded the small town with money. They built it up, created jobs and a flourishing market, a thriving city suddenly very much alive. It became one of the top five cities in the world.

The Brotherhood was sure to keep this town mostly free of their criminal enterprise, focusing on other cities in their expanding territory. But still it became sick with the crime that infected all major cities.

This was the place the Regents decided to build Warehouse 13 quietly. It was so far from the sister Warehouses, and they knew so little about this new threat, but they felt the need to begin here. They were working in the school of thought that said the best way to kill a snake was to cut off the head. They would keep it a small, covert branch until they could find a way to decimate the Brotherhood as they had the Hive.

Then came the tricky part of finding the personnel they would need. Strong individuals with an incorruptible constitution. Many of their sworn agents were veterans of the latest war in Russia, had high degrees and clean records.

The Regent placed in charge of this new Warehouse took these facts into consideration when she began her search for possible candidates. But ultimately, the list she compiled had the high Regents concerned. They allowed her choices to be recruited, on the condition that she keep them well informed on all of the agents and their progress.

Jane Lattimer agreed whole heartedly. She had a vibe about the people contained in the folders on her lap. Yes, these people were the best possible individuals for the difficult task ahead of them, she was sure about it.

Warehouse 13 would become the strongest, most feared and revered entity in the United States.


	2. You Have Been Selected

**Chapter One: **You Have Been Selected

Myka Bering stood behind her desk, as she had been for over forty minutes. Not speaking, not moving, just staring for a while at the box that was filled with the things she would take back to her apartment.

Her eyes flitted downward to the objects she still grasped tightly. In one hand, her nine millimeter service pistol, the other, her gold detectives shield.

With her eyes squeezed shut and a deep breath, she set her badge down. Keeping her eyes closed, she let her muscle memory work, disassembling her weapon. Her compulsive tendencies dictated that she open her eyes to place the parts of her gun on the desk in a specific order.

Keeping her head held high, she grabbed her box of personal effects and walked through the bull pen. Part of her wished the other officers would wait until she was gone to begin whispering about her. Her rational side knew it wouldn't really make a difference, they had been talking about her for months, a lot longer than the investigation that just ended, and they would continue to talk after she walked out the door.

"Suspended indefinitely" was just another way to say Myka was fired, skipping the messy union lawyer business. She deserved as much, after all her partner, the rising star of the department, had been killed.

The call came in at three am for Myka and Sam to respond to a disturbance. Normally that was for the beat cops to handle, but it was tied to a case they had been working on and no other units were available.

Myka had been asleep when her phone rang, she was groggy as the dispatcher gave her the details, she stumbled as she pulled on clothes. It took her maybe two minutes longer than usual, an amount of time inconsequential, and easily made up for when Myka flipped the siren of her car on and floored the gas pedal.

Detective Bering arrived at the abandoned Warehouse ten minutes after the call came in. An impressive response time, but Sam Martino had still beaten her there, his own car already parked near the back alley.

Myka's service pistol was drawn as she moved through the building, its familiar weight giving her courage. All was quiet, and she was slowly beginning to believe it was a false alarm. That was when she saw him, lying still on the dirty cement floor.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she continued towards him, her arms swinging around, gun pointing every direction to cover the darkened building. But it was empty. Only her and her downed partner remained.

Weapon holstered, Detective Bering fell to her knees beside her partner's body. She didn't see the gunshot wound at first, his dark suit hiding it in the dim lighting. She touched him, feeling for a pulse, a breath, anything to indicate life. Her hands came away wet with his blood.

Sam was dead. Just like that. Her mentor and partner of three years was gone. Myka managed to compartmentalize her feelings and called it in.

She didn't allow herself to feel anything until after the coroner drove away with Sam's body and the backup she had called for had finished their sweep, turning up nothing, not evidence of any kind.

They refused to let Myka see the body. She snagged a coroner's report, it told her Sam died as a result of a single gunshot wound to the chest. It pierced his lungs. It took him five minutes to bleed out and die. Alone on the cold floor as the murderers got away.

Myka was sitting in the dark of her apartment, a glass of Jack in her hand. Her heart was finally allowed to feel the extent of her loss. Her partner, her best and only friend was dead. Capitan Dickenson wouldn't even allow Myka to be the one to inform Sam's wife. She was sent home after finishing her reports and handing them over to another detective.

She was removed from the case.

So she drank, trying to simultaneously mourn her loss and feel numb. That's when the internal affairs detectives knocked on her door and put her in cuffs. She didn't even have a chance to change, so the two detectives paraded her through the police station barefoot, wearing her pajamas and the silver bracelets that dug painfully into her wrists.

They ignored her questions as they demanded she answer theirs. Why had she arrived so long after her partner? Where had she been in the amount of time it had taken Detective Martino to die? Did she have an alibi? Why did her breath smell of alcohol? Did she have a drinking problem? What exactly was her personal relationship with Detective Martino?

This was the question that bothered Myka the most. For God's sake, it was 2120, and they still thought woman and men couldn't be professional, couldn't have platonic relationships. Myka was close friends with Sam's wife; even if she _had_ been interested in Sam in that way, she could never hurt Allison like that.

They didn't believe her, but they allowed her to go home.

A month passed, the investigation on Myka and Sam's death was inconclusive. Myka seemed to be the only one present near the approximant time of death, but they didn't have the evidence to pin it on her. All they had was the firm belief that Detectives Bering and Martino had a romantic affair.

Detective Bering should have expected what was coming when Captain Dickenson called her into his office. She had thought, hoped perhaps, that the investigation into her was closed and she could stop being a desk jockey. Instead, Dickenson told her to pack up her things, leave her badge and gun, and leave with what little undamaged reputation she had left.

"And I suggest you leave town all together Det- _Miss _Bering." He huffed from behind his desk.

So Myka cleared her desk, leaving only her shield and gun, and kept her head high as she walked through a sea of accusatory whispers.

_"I heard they were sleeping together…"_

_"She hired someone to kill him when he wouldn't leave his wife…"_

_"Are you kidding me? The bitch probably pulled the trigger herself…"_

_"How'd she get away with it?"_

_"Maybe she's in with the Manifestus…"_

Myka let the gossip bounce off of her as she continued to her personal car. She sat there, in the parking lot, staring out the windshield, wondering what she was supposed to do now.

She didn't feel like returning to the empty apartment she could no longer afford. She didn't have any friends she could call, and she would die before she called her mother or sister. She could hear the I-told-you-sos now. Her father had been right all along, she couldn't make it as a homicide detective in Denver. Her mother would tell her she should have settled down with a nice boy already. Her sister would only remind her that she was the black sheep of the family.

What were you even supposed to do when you lost your job? And what about when you lost your friend? She still hadn't found a way to cope with that over the last four weeks. She didn't know what to do, but a bar seemed like a good place to start.

She hated the song playing when she arrived at the club on the other side of town. Her usual dive was a cop bar, and there was no way she could be seen in one now. She ignored the sound she could hardly call music as she sat on a stool and ordered her first shot of whiskey. It seemed the only music this place had was newer, upbeat, party music. It wasn't fitting her mood, and that annoyed her, so she took another shot.

She looked at the crowd surrounding her. Most of the patrons were her age or younger, but she still stuck out like a sore thumb in her pant suit. She removed her jacket, undid her top buttons, and that helped her blend a bit. Maybe, she thought, if she looked like she fit in with the happy crowd, she could pretend for a little while.

Myka grabbed a napkin, pulled a pen from the jacket she'd just removed and began writing, trying to come up with a plan. She lost count of how many shots she took and of how many napkins she crumpled and threw out, but the words were becoming more blurry than usual, so she gave up.

She spun around to face the crowd, watching the beautiful and young dance with reckless abandon. One more shot and she had enough courage to rise and join them. She didn't know the song, and dancing wasn't normally her strong suit, and she absolutely detested crowds, but right now she didn't care.

She lost herself in the sea of sweaty gyrating bodies letting go, at least temporarily, of everything beyond this moment. The flashing lights made everything surreal, the pounding beats driving her movements. She didn't care that strangers hands were running over her body, she returned the action to more than a few.

There was one girl in particular, the same age as Myka, perhaps a little younger, who caught her attention and held it firmly. Her eyes were a gold color that hand Myka wondering if it was genetics or enhancement. Her hair the auburn color that seemed too perfect to be natural, and Myka didn't really care at the moment if it was, because it felt soft as silk when she tangled her hands in it. Her mouth tasted like champagne, not Myka's favorite, but she knew she probably reeked of Jack Daniels.

Myka, who was usually the one in control of all her encounters, and had never before accepted a proposition from someone whose name she didn't know, found herself nodding when the woman asked if she would like to go back to her place- it was just around the corner, after all.

Myka would meet her at the back door after she settled her tab with the bartender. Myka left her intended one night stand on the dance floor as she wound her way back to the bar. She was breathing heavily when she reached it, and ended up in the seat she had abandoned a couple hours prior.

"Can I get a check?" Myka slurred when the bartender came her way once more.

It was busy, and only seemed to be getting busier as Myka put her head in her hands for a moment. She took a deep breath and looked up when the bartender pushed a drink under her nose. She stared at him, drunkenly confused, "I didn't order this."

"It's from down the bar." He waved vaguely before walking away.

Myka looked down at it, questioning. She was already so far in, she figured one more drink couldn't hurt. Besides, she was sobering up faster than she was okay with. She tilted the glass back, gulping down its icy contents.

Her nose wrinkled. She didn't think anyone in her part of the country still ordered White Russians, and the bartender had gone a little heavy on the vodka, it was almost over powering.

That's when Myka realized there was a pink sheet of paper stuck to the condensation in the bottom of the glass.

She plucked it off and held it between her hands, bringing it close to her face. The print was tiny, and there was a lot of it, as well as an official looking stamp embossed in the top right hand corner.

_Ms. Myka Ophelia Bering,_

_ You have been selected to serve your country._

That was as much as she was able to read before the room started spinning.

She tried to stand, but her legs were tangled in the legs of the stool and she fell heavily to the floor, her head hitting the scuffed floor first, making her see stars.

Two strong hands hoisted her up and began to drag her out of the club. She struggled, tried to protest, but she was quickly losing consciousness.

The last thing she saw was an older blonde woman frowning down at her, shaking her head in a disappointed gesture Myka recognized well.

While mentally cursing the absurdly strong man folding her into a waiting car, Myka didn't realize her kidnappers had actually saved her from her would be murderer. Sure, the woman would have made it look like a suicide, but no one would have read too much into it. Myka didn't have friends, no close family, the people in her apartment building didn't even know her name. Myka Bering was alone in a city filled with pissed off people she had made enemies with.

While she was sure she was about to die, Myka's life had actually been saved, for the time being that is.

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_**AN: **__Future Chapters may be longer, but updating will not be as often as my others. If this is something you would like to see continued, leave a review, feedback is always welcome._


	3. MARLE

**Chapter Two: **M.A.R.L.E.

The smell of ammonium burned her sinuses, rousing Myka from her alcohol and concussion induced slumber. Her mouth was dry as the Sahara and tasted of death, her tongue feeling useless, thick sandpaper. Her head was pounding before she even peeled back her eyelids, the light assaulting her eyes. Myka sat up slowly, the action causing her stomach to turn violently.

Myka was aware almost immediately that she was not in her bedroom. She sat on a twin sized bed, made of metal and set close to the ground. The floor was cold linoleum beneath her feet, waxed to a pristine shine. The white walls were glaring under the buzzing florescent lights. Myka squinted as she took in her surroundings, vaguely wondering why she wasn't panicking yet.

There was a desk, a low dresser, empty shelves and two doorways, one of which was an empty frame that lead to a small bathroom. Myka rushed there now on legs that felt like over-cooked pasta. She bent over the toilet, vomiting until most of the nausea subsided.

She turned on the sink, tilting her chin beneath it and drinking deeply from it until she could feel the water slosh around her empty stomach. She put her weight on the edge of the sink, glaring her ragged reflection in the small mirror.

_What the hell happened last night?_

She never had a problem with her memories before, but now the pathway of her own mind was hazy. She'd left the precinct, drove across town to the club, had a few drinks, danced a bit, tried to pick up on someone but then it all went blank from there. Clearly she'd had far too much to drink, and she hadn't gotten lucky last night, She wasn't all together sure that this wasn't the drunk tank at another police station.

"Good morning, Miss Bering!" a cheery voice echoed around her.

Myka spun around, searching for the voice's owner, "Who's there?" she demanded when she found no other person in the small room.

"Hello, I am MARLE," Myka followed the sound to a small speaker on the wall.

"Marley?" Myka questioned, "Who are you?"

"Monitor, assess, report, learn, evaluate," the voice explained, "MARLE. I am your artificial intelligence, and those are my primary directives."

"Someone should tell your programmer that isn't how you spell Marley." Myka pinched the bridge of her nose as her migraine flared white hot.

"If that is the case, it stands to reason that somebody should have informed your parents that it is spelled M-I-C-A-H." MARLE retorted.

_Great,_ Myka sighed to herself, _They gave me the sarcastic robot._

"MARLE, where am I?" Myka asked aloud, glancing at her surroundings once again.

"I am sorry, Miss Bering," the voice truly did sound contrite, "That information is classified."

"I'm not under arrest or anything, am I?" Myka sat back down on the bed, she wouldn't put it past her captain to have another department arrest her on bogus charges.

"No, Miss Bering," MARLE assured her, "You are not under arrest."

"Well then, what am I doing here? _Why_ am I here?" She lay back and covered her eyes with her arm, wishing it were dark in the room, then perhaps her head ache would subside.

"You are currently in a facility that will test your strengths and weaknesses to see how well you can perform the duties expected of a Warehouse Agent." MARLE explained.

"A _Warehouse _Agent?" Myka looked up at the ceiling, knowing the AI was monitoring her somehow, "You're yanking my chain right?"

"I do not understand your question." MARLE complained.

"It means you're lying to me." Myka sat back up, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It goes against my programming to lie to you, Miss Bering," MARLE stated, sounding confused, "It would be highly illogical for me to do so."

"I can't be," Myka laughed shook her head, "There is no way that _I _could ever be a _Warehouse_ Agent."

"After you complete a series of tests and tasks, you may be sworn into duty as a fully-fledged Warehouse Agent with all the rights and responsibilities as such." Her statement sounded almost like an argument, and Myka wondered how much money was spent to make this AI have a full personality.

"That's ridiculous, don't you even know who I am?" Myka shouted as she hit her own chest, immediately regretting it when the jostling causing her head ache to worsen.

"You are Myka Ophelia Bering. Born October 23, 2090. Daughter of Warren and Jeannie Bering. One sibling, sister, younger, Tracy Bering. Graduated from Jefferson High School in Colorado Springs, Colorado with a 4.2 grade point average in 2108. Attended Denver community college, majored in law, then history, then criminology. No degree was obtained. Graduated from the Denver POST academy in 2112 at the top of your class. Became a patrol officer in Colorado Springs. Transferred to Denver police department in 2116. Became a homicide detective in 2117. Removed from duty without honors in 2120." She sounded bored as she listed these facts, as if she could have been reading off someone else's grocery list.

_Fantastic, _Myka rolled her eyes, _Not only does my life apparently bore her, I've also begun calling a computer a "she" now._

"Thanks, MARLE," Myka grumbled, "Remind me to teach you what a rhetorical question is later. But first, tell me why _I _am here. I didn't choose this. I don't even know if this is something I want to do! I need to talk to someone."

She walked to the closed door and tried the handle, panic setting in when if tailed to open under her hand.

"MARLE, why is the door locked?" Myka demanded, "Am I being held prisoner here?"

"Of course not, Miss Bering!" MARLE sounded taken aback, they sure did go all out when they created her, "I have informed Regent Lattimer of your request for her audience. The doors on all of the recruits rooms are kept locked until orientation so that they don't get lost or into trouble before they are told the rules."

"And when is orientation?" Myka put her hands on her hips.

"When every recruit has recovered from their sedative," She said, "My systems check with the other AI's reviled that you were the last recruit unconscious, so I released a small amount of ammonium carbonate to wake you."

"Well my kidnappers didn't think about what would happen if they mixed their sedative with vast amounts of whiskey." Myka growled under her breath, "Had I known I would be abducted to join the government's police force I may have reconsidered my night out."

"An agent will be by to collect you shortly," MARLE ignored Myka's words, "Please put on the clothes provided for you and insert your temporary ear piece."

"What?" Myka asked indignantly, looking down at herself and then at the dresser on the wall, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Your clothing is not optimal for today's schedule." MARLE informed her, "I recommend comfortable clothing that is easy to move in as well as tennis shoes."

"Why can't I just wear my own clothes?" Myka didn't budge from where she stood.

"Please, Miss Bering, it would be easier if you follow my advice. It is what I am here for." MARLE stated, "If you want to pass the program you have to participate and follow the rules."

"What if I don't want to pass the program?" Myka challenged.

"I can tell when you are lying, Miss Bering." MARLE claimed smugly.

Myka huffed, standing her ground for a moment longer before conceding with a sigh and the rolling of her eyes. Myka was unhappy about this so called recruitment process, but the idea of being a part of the elite force of law enforcement agents did thrill her, even if she did believe there was a mistake. If anything, it got her out of Denver.

"MARLE?" Myka called out as she pulled from the dresser work out pants, a light shirt and a jacket, "What's today's date?"

"Saturday, the 20th of January, 2120." MARLE informed her.

"And how long is this program supposed to last?" She questioned, she didn't like not knowing how long she was supposed to be there.

"Until every new recruit either passes or drops out." MARLE said after a moment.

"And how many of us are there?" She asked, pulling the zipper up on her jacket.

"Ten recruits in total. Five field agents, two laboratory technicians, two crime scene investigators, one cyber-crimes agent." The computer listed, "You are applying for the position of field agent."

"Obviously," Myka rolled her eyes. From what little Myka, or anyone for that matter, knew about the Warehouse, there were quite a few more positions that only those, and they were all in the eastern states, "Where will we be placed if we pass?"

"I cannot tell you that, it is classified." MARLE apologized, "I do not have access at this time."

There was a knock on the door and the sound of the electronic lock disengaging. As the door swung outward, the mass of a tall man in a suit filled the door frame. He had flat grey eyes and a stern face, "Recruit Bering," He grumbled by way of greeting.

"Why does _he_ get to wear a suit while I look like I'm wearing pajamas?" Myka grumbled.

"Because he is an agent," MARLE quipped, "Miss Bering, please, your ear piece."

Myka lifted the small plastic device and inserted it into his ear. It made a clicking noise before anchoring itself into place, making it impossible for Myka to move it.

"Hey, what gives?" she huffed, futzing with it in her ear.

"You can remove your ear piece upon returning to your room." MARLE's voice now spoke directly into her ear.

"Oh great," Myka sighed as she walked towards the door, "Now I get to look like I'm talking to myself."

"I wouldn't worry about that too much, Miss Bering." MARLE chuckled.

The stoic agent motioned for Myka to walk in front of him. She noticed her room was one of many in a long hallway, and she wasn't the only one being lead out of their room.

She was at the far end of the hall, so she could count nine agents, men and women, all in suits, all escorting their own charges.

"Will we be lead around like this for the whole program?"

She'd asked the agent, but he didn't answer, so MARLE did instead, "No, this is only for assessment and orientation. After today, you will be expected to know your own way around the facility."

The agents lead them to a large indoor track. The entire, long walk there, Myka hadn't seen a single window. This made her think that perhaps they were in an underground facility. She tried to not let that make her feel claustrophobic.

The agents came to a halt, standing on the fringes of the large room while the ten recruits ventured forward a few feet, finally all able to get a good look at one another.

It was an even split, five women, five men. Myka sized them up each in turn, as they did as well. No one spoke for an extended time.

Myka became very aware that she was hung over, and probably looked as such. She comforted herself knowing that she couldn't look as bad as the short red headed woman who stood a little apart, arms crossed, blood shot eyes darting between them.

"Hi," the woman with dark skin and curly hair broke the silence when it appeared they were being left to their own devices for the time being, I'm Leena."

The tallest among them, a man who looked like he spent most of his free time in the gym, but had a boyish face and a wide grin aimed at Leena, "Pete." He greeted.

"I'm Rebecca, Rebecca St. Clair," the taller red head offered, she seemed more interested in watching the rest of them.

"Jack." He kept his arms crossed over his chest, him mouth set firmly.

"Abigale," the woman with Asian features greeted, tilting her head and assessing her companions with quick glances that seemed to see through people.

"Todd," the young man adjusted his glasses and ran an agitated hand through his hair.

"JD." The tall, thin man smiled, revealing two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth.

"Steve" the blond with the buzz cut and serious demeanor nodded to them.

Myka realized they were now all looking to her and the other skittish woman, waiting for them to introduce themselves as well.

"Myka." The ex-detective spoke quickly.

"_Me_-ka?" Pete repeated back, tilting his head.

"_My_ka." She repeated forcefully.

"Myka?" Pete made a face.

"Myka." She nodded.

"Claudia." The last of them greeted as she bit her thumb nail, her foot bouncing up and down, "What are we doing here?" she demanded.

"You didn't tell them?" Myka asked MARLE.

"I'm not their AI," she could imagine MARLE giving a shrug.

"Who are you talking to?" JD quircked an eyebrow, "Do you know why we're here?"

"I'm talking to MARLE." She pointed to her ear.

Pete made a swirling motion next to his temple as he gave Leena a goofy face. The other woman rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I'm not crazy," Myka insisted, "She's the AI." Myka tilted her head so they could see the ear piece.

"Oh! I thought he was called CHAD?" Steve tilted his head suddenly, not used to the voice in his ear yet, "Yes, _CHAD_."

"No, it's SARA." Pete argued, pointing to his own ear.

"Miss Bering?" MARLE interrupted before they started fighting, "Perhaps I should have mentioned that each recruit was designed their own artificial intelligence."

"That would have been nice to know." Myka sighed before relaying that information.

"So, why are we here?" Claudia focused her sleep deprived gaze on Myka.

She saw fear there, and Myka had the urge to reassure, to protect. But that was crazy. She'd just met the girl, so she swallowed her feelings.

"You're all here because I chose you." Everyone's head whipped around to watch the newcomer approach.

She was blonde, in her late fifties, wearing a blue suit and a no-nonsense face, taking long, confident strides.

"Hey!" Myka pointed at her, "You were at the club! I _saw_ you!"

"Mom?" Pete's jaw dropped.

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_**AN:**_I am only allowing myself to put new chapters of this fic up after new chapters of my other fic, since i'm 40 chapters into that one and it's not like i can just abandon it. But don't worry, i will be updating as often as possible.


	4. Recruited

**Chapter Three:** Recruited

"Mom?" Pete Blanched, "What are you doing here?" He seemed to be having trouble picking his jaw up from the floor.

"That's your _mom_?" Jack demanded, glaring at Pete.

Myka looked between mother and son, searching for the family resemblance. It took a bit of searching, but finally she found it in the shape of some of their features. She found it odd, how two people could be related and have very little physically in common with each other, but strangers could look like siblings. All she had to do was look between JD and Claudia for evidence of that.

"Not here I'm not," The older woman shook her head, "Here I am Regent Lattimer, and as recruits, you will address me as such."

"Recruits for what exactly, _Regent Lattimer_." Jack turned his suspicious gaze on her.

"Warehouse Agents," She paced in front of them, "Each of you have been selected to go through the recruitment program, and if you pass, you will be sworn in as Warehouse Agents."

"I'm sorry," Claudia interrupted, holding her hands out for Regent Lattimer to stop talking, "You want _me_ to be a Warehouse Agent? Uh, are you fracking _high_?" she demanded.

The other recruits shot her sideways glances. Regents had enormous power in the new United States, and Regent Lattimer didn't seem like she was the type of woman to tolerate insolence.

"No, Recruit Donovan, I assure you, I am not high," She gave the young woman an icy stare that had everyone fidgeting, "Each of you were chosen for a reason, and only after extensive background checks. We know everything about each one of you. And we believe that each of you can add something to the Warehouse."

"And if I don't want to be a Warehouse Agent?" Claudia challenged.

"Donavan, if you chose to opt out of the program, which any of you can do from now until the end of the program, or if you do not pass, we will simply put you back wherever we found you." Regent Lattimer quirked an eyebrow at her, "Some of you can look at this opportunity as a fresh start, others as an advancement in your careers. But at any moment, if you can no longer handle the trials you as recruits must face, then you can back out. We will be more than happy to return you to whatever life you were leading before this. Does anyone want to back out now?"

No one stepped forward, no one so much as made eye contact with the powerful woman, and Claudia Donovan finally learned to keep her mouth shut.

"Good," the regent smirked, "The first thing each of you are to do is run a mile, then report to the dining hall. The agents who escorted you will show you the way."

"Wait, _running_?" Todd groaned.

"Yes, Recruit Nolan," Regent Lattimer turned her back to them, "Running."

Myka shrugged and looked to Pete, who was watching his mom walk away, confusion still dominating his features. The others glanced to one another, seeing if they were really going to run the mile they were told to. Myka rolled her eyes before walking to the edge of the track. She pulled her hair back with the hairband from her wrist before she started her run.

Myka was hung over and feeling like shit, but she always kept up on her physical training. Partly because of her department's regulations, but mostly because she never had anything better to do.

When she reached the peak of the curve on her first lap, she was joined by another pair of running feet.

"Mind if I pace myself with you?" Pete's voice was still mostly even.

Myka shot him a look out of the corner of her eye and shrugged, "I don't see why not."

Pete smiled and faced forward, allowing them to fall in a comfortable silence.

Running together turned out to work in Myka's favor. Myka was forced by pride to keep her speed up, she would be damned if she allowed Pete to run faster than her. She didn't know the guy, but she was sure she would never live it down. On their final lap, their breathing was slightly labored, and Pete spun on his feet so he was running backwards, showing off and rising a challenging eyebrow.

Myka glared and picked up her speed, running past him and leaving him scrambling to catch up. Myka was laughing despite herself as it became a race to the finish. They lapped two of the recruits, dodging them and spinning to keep up speed. For the first time in a long time, Myka felt _good_.

They reached the end at the same time, though each insisted it was they who won.

"What's our time?" Myka asked, tilting her head.

"Five minutes even, Miss Bering." MARLE informed her.

"Huh, not bad Lattimer," Myka smirked at him, hoping he couldn't tell how close she was to throwing up chunks of her liver.

"Hey, hey, hey," Pete waggled his finger at her before leaning forward with his hands on his knees, "That isn't fair, I don't even know your last name."

Myka opened her mouth to tell them, but Pete spoke again, "What was that? Oh, _Bering_," he smirked as he listened to SARA speak to him in his ear, finally seeing a use for it, "Wait, why does that sound familiar?"

Myka froze, her good mood doused. She knew she had been in the new in Colorado. _Denver Detective Dead! Partner Involved? _She was hoping nobody here knew who she was.

"Common name, I guess." Myka shrugged.

"Where did you serve?" Pete inclined his head, "Marine?"

"Nope." Was all Myka said, she was saved from having to explain when Jack finished and took Pete's attention.

"What about you, Secord?" He called, enjoying the fact that his AI was now automatically giving him the name of the recruits, "You a Marine?" he nodded to the tattoo visible on Jack's forearm.

"Semper Fi," Jack nodded, breathing heavily.

By some unspoken agreement, they sat at the edge of the track and waited for all of the recruits to finish their run Steve Jinks was the next, and was asked the same question. He was an Army Ranger in a previous life. Rebecca St. Clair was an Intelligence Officer in the Navy, and Myka was beginning to worry that she was the only one recruited without a military background.

That is, until Leena arrived shortly after Rebecca. She didn't enlist in any branch of the military, and Myka felt better for a moment, until it became known that she was the holder of three separate degrees in Psychology, Criminology and Forensics.

And then it became about flaunting their schooling. Pete held credentials in Speech Pathology, Steve and Rebecca in Political Science, Jack in Law. When Abigale arrived, she put them to shame with her Doctorate in Psychology and a Masters in Criminology. Myka sank lower and lower, praying no one would ask her.

It was over a minute before JD finished, and Myka had convinced herself it couldn't possibly get any worse for her. But the 20 year old had an IQ north of 160, Masters Degrees in Forensics and Criminology, Bachelor Degrees in Physics and Engineering. He had apparently graduated high school at 16 and went to work for the NSA.

When Claudia collapsed on the ground struggling to breathe, she informed them between gasps that the only degree she held was her GED. She didn't tell them that she had earned her diploma while incarcerated at the juvenile hall.

Todd, stumbling in last at nine minutes, boasted a Masters Degree in Criminology and a background working with the FBI as a crime scene analyst.

Myka decided she would stick by Claudia, whose history was far less intimidating.

Once all of the recruits had caught their breath, the agents lead they down yet another long series of halls. Myka wondered how the hell they were supposed to be able to find their way around this monstrosity when every hall looked identical to the last. She counted hallways and turns then, counting on her eidetic memory to be useful here.

"Do you mind if I walk with you?"

Myka turned to find Claudia Donovan looking at her worriedly.

"Sure thing," Myka tried to smile, but her approach caught her off guard.

"Sorry, you're just, like, the most _normal_ seeming person here." Claudia ran a hand through her short hair, "And that JD guy keeps giving me these weird looks. I think it's because I ran my mouth and pissed off that Regent."

"It wasn't so bad," Myka tried to reassure her, "And besides, no offence to _Regent Lattimer_, but she seems like the type of person to be perpetually pissed off."

"Right?" Claudia grinned, "And how did she expect us to react after being kidnapped. Isn't the whole bag over the head thing a little too cliché?"

"You had a bag over your head?" Myka brought her eyebrows together.

"Yeah, it was really itchy, I hope it didn't give me lice," she scratched absently at the back of her head, "They didn't put a bag over your head?"

"No, they just drugged me." Myka sighed, "Not that I made it that difficult, I was a few drinks in by the time the regent found me in a club."

"Right, she _just_ drugged you," Claudia shook her head.

They finally reached the dining hall, looking a lot like a school cafeteria, Pete lead the way to the counter at the far end of the room.

"Thank God, I am starving!" he pat his stomach as he looked behind the counter for someone, "Hello?" he rapped the counter with his knuckles.

"Recruits," one of the Warehouse Agents came around to the front of their small pack, "This is where you will pick up your meals three times a day. You will stand here," he easily pushed Pete where he wanted him, "put your hand on this scanner," He put Pete's hand palm down on a small window of glass on the counter, "And you will retrieve your food, it is based on your calorie needs, factoring in your size, metabolism and the day's activities."

Pete's tray rose from a panel in the counter, on it was bacon, eggs, oatmeal and sliced up melon. It looked delicious, but Pete made a face, "This is all we get until lunch? They're gonna starve me to death." He grumbled before turning on his heel and walking one of the dozens of empty tables in the large room.

They moved forward one by one, gathering their trays from whatever mysterious thing produced them. When it was Myka's turn, she didn't much pay attention to what it deemed appropriate to give her, she wasn't really hungry.

She stalled with her tray of food, staring at the empty tables, shifting her weight back and forth. She was having some serious high school lunch room flashbacks. She was the dorky kid in the off brand clothes and thick glasses and an even thicker book. Pete, Steve, Jack and Rebecca, laughing loudly at their claimed table, were the cool kids who, on a good day, would ignore her existence completely.

Myka bit her lip and turned her body to an empty table in the corner, but before she could take a step in that direction, a voice called out her name.

"Hey, Bering!" Pete called from his seat.

Myka flinched inwardly before slowly turning, the awkward teenager that took up residence in her was expecting to be berated.

"Where you going?" Pete beckoned to her, "Come on, we don't have cuties."

"Well, Jack might," Rebecca mumbled.

Steve snorted and Jacks lip twisted in distain.

Myka hesitated once more still uncertain, until Pete gave her an encouraging smile and waved her over. Myka's heart was pounding in her ears and her dishes were shaking on her tray, but she steeled her nerves and walked to the table, sliding her tray beside Pete's.

Claudia immediately sat next to Myka, and Todd found a spot across from the redhead, right next to Steve. JD sat on the other side of Rebecca, and Abigale across from her. Leena was the last to sit next to Claudia. And Myka realized that they all decided to sit together despite the many empty tables.

She was the only one giving it much thought as conversation continued around her. The recruits were trying to get to know each other better. If they were stuck together for the foreseeable future, if each of their success depended upon everyone elses, they might as well work on not being strangers.

Pete knew sign language and taught them different words, many of them not for polite company and made sure to tell them not to use it around the regent. It was impossible to lie to Steve, which they tested into the ground until even Jack conceded. Jack showed off his gunshot wound to his back, three centimeters from paralyzing him. They listened to Myka and Rebecca have a conversation in Russian, demanding a translation when the women dissolved into laughter. It was all fun until JD asked Claudia a question, forcing everyone to listen in since they sat so far from each other.

"Were you adopted?" He asked without preamble, his head tilting, watching her reaction closely, clearly confused by something. He hadn't eaten much of his food, just pushed it around on his plate. The only one who ate less than him was Myka, though you couldn't tell because she pushed most of her food onto Pete's plate when no one was looking.

"Nope," Claudia tried to hide how much the question had bothered her, and JD seemed to relax for a moment, disappointment evident on his face, "I never had the pleasure." Her laugh was full of mirth as she focused don her own tray.

"So you were in a foster home?" JD pushed and Myka shot him a glare, trying to get him to shut up.

"Try twelve," Claudia grumbled before throwing her fork down, "And juvie was better than any of them. Why do you want to know, for?"

He opened his mouth, but his words were interrupted by the somewhat dramatic entrance of Regent Lattimer, flanked by three other confused looking people, two women and a man.

"Breakfast is over, recruits." She announced, coming to a stop at the end of their table.


	5. Rules and Regulations

**Chapter Four: **Rules and Regulations

"Recruits, I would like for you to meet your two supervisors as well as your lawyer." Jane waved to the three newcomers, "This is Colonel Arthur Neilson, he will be the senior agent your report to should you pass the program."

The bespectacled man with grey hair and seriously insane eyebrows had a frown that seemed to be permanently etched into his wizened face. He crossed his arms, which rested easily on his portly frame, as he grumbled under his breath.

"Doctor Vanessa Calder," Regent Lattimer went on with her introductions as she gestured to the blonde woman with kind eyes and streaks of silver in her hair, "She is our lead coroner and she will head up the lab."

Vanessa smiled warmly at the stressed looking recruits, remembering when she had been amongst them years ago.

"And Irene Fredric," Myka noticed Leena shifting uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding eye contact with the sharply dressed woman now being presented to them, "She is our lawyer. For now, she is in charge of everything from warrants and contracts, to being your attorney and representing the Warehouse team as a whole in court." The dark skinned woman also seemed incapable of smiling as she looked at each of the recruits in turn.

Myka had trouble reading her the most. She prided herself on being able to get a read on people, a necessary talent as a homicide detective, and she could start to understand the people facing her now. Colonel Nielson was giving the impression of a grumpy man who knew more than most, and had seen enough to lose faith in humanity, his cynicism the only thing left that he had to cling to. Doctor Calder was also clearly bright and had been around the block, but she had an open stance, welcoming the curious glances, but still held back from them. But Irene Fredric… that woman seemed to be mystery incarnate.

"With their help, you will be taught and tested until you are deemed capable to handle the responsibility of a Warehouse agent." Myka watched as this information sunk in with her peers, as they realized the only thing standing between them and this chance of a lifetime were the tree stoic figures staring them down now.

"Before we get started, Agent Fredric will explain to you the rules you will abide by while you are in this facility." She waved for the lawyer to step forward.

"First of all," the counselor stated in a careful voice that was stern, "Though I am a fully credited agent of the Warehouse, you may call me Mrs. Fredric. It is my responsibility to make sure you understand what shall be expected of you as representatives of our agency.

"Here is what I expect from you," Mrs. Fredric looked over the rim of her glasses at them, "First and foremost, there will be no fraternization."

"No _what_?" Pete tilted his head, confused.

"She means no sex," Myka rolled her eyes as she stage whispered it to him.

There was grumbling from a few recruits, but Mrs. Fredric ignored the sounds, choosing to move down her list of rules, "There will be no alcohol or drugs while you are here, not that you would have access to any in this facility any way."

The recruits looked to one another and shrugged, accepting this rule a bit more easily than they would the next.

"There will be no caffeine consumption for the duration of this program by any recruits."

"What?" Myka snapped her head up, and she wasn't the only one, a small up roar began amongst the recruits, most of which were hardcore caffeine addicts.

"Enough!" Mrs. Fredric's voice called easily over the grumbling recruits, "Where was I? Oh yes, there will be absolutely no hacking." She shot a glare at the young redhead beside Myka, and the ex-detective got the impression that Claudia'd had a problem with computers before.

"While you are here, as far as you're concerned, the outside world does not exist. There will be no phone calls, emails, messages, or news." The lawyer continued to lay down the law, "You will follow the schedule up loaded to your AI's every morning. I understand that living in close quarters with so many conflicting personalities is going to raise a few issues, but here me when I say, fighting outside of physical training with the colonel is forbidden. And last but not least, you will wear your ear piece connecting you to your AI at all times. Are there any questions?"

Whether she was clear or not, no recruit seemed willing to ask the woman any questions. Mrs. Fredric stepped back, nodding to the Regent.

"Alright, Recruits," Jane nodded, "Today, we will assess where you stand, and what you must do to pass as a Warehouse agent. You've already done your first test, your mile times leave something to be desired. If it took you longer than six minutes to run your mile, you failed. Until you can get your time under six minutes, you will not pass the program. Here, everything is pass or fail. There is no grading scale, and if you fail one of your nine tests, you cannot go on, and neither can your peers, because you are a team, and if one of you fails, all of you fail."

Myka saw the slower recruits blush and duck their heads slightly, and Myka felt like she was going to be sick. She didn't doubt her own abilities, but she had never had much faith in other people, and now her future relied on the nine people around her.

Myka once again felt like she was back in high school, and the teacher had just given them a group project. Myka always ended up doing all of the work since she needed to get a good grade, but something told her it wasn't going to be so easy this time. She couldn't take the tests for her fellow recruits. And she really didn't want to. If these were the people she would be working with when the danger was real, she sure as hell didn't want them having got there because they cheated.

Colonel Neilson gathered the recruits for their second test, leading them to a large room that was filled with things Myka found familiar. It resembled the obstacle course that she had to run for the academy, only this one seemed to be designed to make her fail.

As if that were not bad enough, after the colonel told them they were to run the course as fast as they could, Neilson hit a button on the wall and the florescent lights went out, replaced by strobing black lights, an awful noise began to pour from the speakers, and rain poured from the ceiling, soaking Myka through in a few moments.

Myka could barely hear the tone that signaled for them to begin. She scrambled to the wall, jumping until she could grip the top of the wall, then using her feet to scramble over the top. She landed hard on the other side, but at least she was able to stay on her feet, which was more than a few others could say.

The rope she had to climb and swing from was more difficult than she expected, she could seem to get a grip on the rope, and she nearly fell, as Todd and JD did, into the mud pit that awaited them at the bottom.

She ended up covered in Mud regardless having to army crawl under the wire, her sweater catching and ripping twice. Jumping over hurdles, trying to keep herself up going through the freezing, slippery monkey bars, running over the giant teeter-totter, and a dozen other ridiculously challenging tasks left her a breathless, soaking mess as she lay on the floor at the course's finish.

She was the third to finish, Jack and Pete having beat her by fifteen seconds and Rebecca and Leena ten seconds behind her.

Once the last of them, JD, had finished, Neilson turned the florescents back on, killing the simulated rain and sounds.

"That was pathetic," he grumbled as he looked down at his tablet, "In order to pass the obstacle course you had to finish under eight minutes. Lattimer, Secord, Bering, St. Clair, Fredric, Jinks, you all passed, though there was room for improvement on all of your parts. And as for you four," he looked to the remaining recruits, whose names he did not call, and he simply shook his head before turning.

The recruits scrambled to follow him to the next room, Myka's shoes made a squishing noise with each step, and she was incredibly relieved when Neilson led them to the locker rooms, the boys and girls separating to change into dry clothes. Each of them found their name on a locker door and more gym clothes inside.

After having shed their ruined clothes, the senior agent lead them to a room Myka was extremely familiar with, and she found herself smiling, feeling more at home.

At the main door, Neilson handed each of them a pair of safety glasses, ear wear, and an unloaded nine millimeter hand gun. Myka felt its weight and sighed, feeling like she had been given a missing limb back. The colonel directed each of them into a room, explaining this was to test their accuracy and speed with a weapon.

Myka rolled her shoulders once alone in her chamber, taking a breath as her hands worked with the gun, loading the magazine and putting a round in the chamber, eyes glued to the clock counting down from ten. When the numbers reached zero, targets began appearing. It was faster than the training chamber at her old precinct, but that hardly phased her, and when the simulation was over, Myka found herself slightly dejected.

The recruits each exited their rooms, returning their gear to a waiting agent before stranding in an anxious group, waiting for Nielson to return with their test results.

The old man was grumbling, his frown deepening as he read over the scores.

"Fredric," He held out the first paper, "50 accuracy, 20 speed, what's the problem Fredric? Why the hesitation?"

Leena blushed, but shrugged as she accepted her test results, "I've never been comfortable with guns."

"Get comfortable," Neilson ordered, but his eyes were soft, holding none of the harshness of the command, "Nolan!" he barked for the next recruit, "35 accuracy, 35 speed. Work on it, Nolan." He growled as he handed Todd his results.

Myka waited anxiously for her own results to be called, watching the senior agent tear down her peers as he worked through the list.

"Bering," Arthur's lips twitched oddly as he held out her paper, not commenting at all.

Myka was afraid to look at it, but the suspense was killing her, "45 50?" she read it twice looking up at Nielson. She was five points short of perfect, her speed getting her in the end, and if she wasn't mistaken, the colonel almost looked proud now.

"Fredric, Nolan, Ashmore, Donovan, St. Clair, you five need to improve until your collective score is at least 90. Remember, shoot like your life depends on it. You shoot to stop the threat, and you do not hesitate, because I promise you, the bad guys are not going to hesitate to shoot you."

The next room was set up with weights- machines and free weights. The recruits had to be able to lift two thirds of their body weight. Though a few of them struggled with it, the only ones unable to lift their share was Claudia, Todd and JD.

Their final task before breaking for lunch was sparing. They were paired off with agents and told to floor their opponents. No one was surprised when Myka and Pete finished relatively quickly, but when Claudia had the agent twice her size on the floor under her foot, the recruits erupted into a surprised bout of applause. Leena, Abigale, Todd and Joshua, struggled, but in the end, the agents knocked them flat on their backs before they could get the upper hand.

They were all sore and starving as they lined up in the dining hall once again. They all talked adamantly, trying to figure out how to help their whole group pass Nielson's impossible standards. Myka was surprised there was no animosity from those who didn't pass towards those who did, only concern about how to improve.

When Doctor Calder arrived to take them for their next round of assessment, it was far too soon for the exhausted recruits, but they went easily enough, glad that it seemed like their physical testing was over.

She led them to what looked like a class room but with comfortable chairs, wide desks. Each recruit grabbed a seat, Myka followed old habits and grabbed a desk at the front.

"This first test will seem familiar to some of you," Doctor Calder admitted, "However, I think you'll find that the Warehouse's standards are a bit higher than the American Military." She sighed as she passed out booklets and scantrons with number two pencils.

"The ASVAB?" Pete groaned, "I take it my old scores aren't to par, huh?" she scoffed.

"No, Peter," Vanessa shook her head before addressing the whole group, "You will answer every question, and when you are finished, you will step out to the next room where your next test will be waiting.

The test was easier than Myka expected, and she was the second recruit to finish, only seconds behind Claudia Donovan.

"How do you think you did?" Myka asked when they met in the hall way.

Claudia shrugged, "It was pretty easy actually. Most of it was pretty much common sense."

Myka nodded her agreement as they walked into the next classroom, identical to the last, and she went to the same desk. The booklet handed to her by a stoic agent was even thicker than the last and she sighed heavily as she sat down with her scantron and pencil. She was half tempted to fill in random bubbles, her exhaustion weighing heavily on her head, but she resisted. The challenge the test provided her was refreshing. She'd always liked school, and she would have loved to go to college after she graduated, but her parents could only afford to send one of their daughters to college, and Myka wasn't their choice.

By the time Myka was finished with the mind numbing test, all of the other recruits had already begun. Once again she was one of the first to finish, Claudia and JD the only ones done before she was.

The third classroom she was directed to was different. Each desk had a computer screen in the middle. The agent in charge of babysitting them instructed her that it was a facial recognition test. A picture would flash for a fourth of a second, and Myka had to pick which emotion was shone on the face of the individual. That was interesting and fun for her, if a bit simple. She found herself wishing the pictures would flash faster to give her a little more of a challenge.

The last classroom she was sent to, she was handed a case folder much like the ones she went through daily at her old job and told to write a report on the findings of the investigation contained in the manila folder.

Myka sighed, not in a tired way, more in a relieved way. Paper work was an integral part of her job as a detective, one she actually found quite relaxing, and she was turning in her report and case folder before anyone else.

She figured it was close to dinner, but MARLE told her she had about an hour, so she returned to her room, finding it easier than she thought possible. And she collapsed onto the twin sized bed that was more comfortable than she remembered. She found herself falling asleep easily. But nightmares of Sam being killed haunted her, and she was incredibly relieved when MARLE woke her for dinner.

The conversation at the table was not as boisterous as it had been that morning, all of the recruits bowing under their exhaustion. However, much to Myka's surprise, the recruits still talked with familiarity to one another, as if they had been together weeks or months rather than hours.

Myka watched with suspicion as JD pulled Claudia to the side, and she found herself rising, her protective nature forcing her onto tired feet as she followed them.

JD sighed when he saw that Myka wasn't going to leave him alone with Claudia, "I just need to talk to her about something, Bering, something personal."

"Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Myka," Claudia crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Fine!" JD ran a hand through his dark auburn hair, huffing, "I'm- I'm your brother."

Claudia scoffed, "Bull shit, no, no" she shook her head, but Myka could see the realization slowly dawning on her face as it paled, and the ex-detective found herself preparing to catch Claudia should she pass out, "Joshua?" her voice sounded like the eight year old girl who had been separated from her twin brother by child services the day her parents and older sister had been killed.

Joshua nodded, his cheeks pinpricked in red, "Yeah, _JD_, Joshua Donovan."

"Didn't they call you Ashmore?" Myka interjected when it seemed Claudia had lost the ability to speak.

"Yeah, that's my adopted name," Joshua nodded, "My mom and dad let me change middle name to Donovan so I could hold on to my old family, too."

"I need," Claudia shook her head as she took a step back, "I need to go sit down."

"Claud," Joshua reached out for his sister, but Claudia lifted her hands up and stepped back again.

She had lost her family 12 years ago, she never expected, never even let herself hope, that she would get any part of that back, she needed a moment to process, and Myka could see that, so she moved to stand between the twins, allowing Claudia the space she needed to return to the lunch table.

"Look," Myka sighed, "I don't really know either of you, but I can tell that she's going to need a bit to process this, so why don't you give her some space?"

Joshua nodded before returning to his own seat. Neither of the siblings refound their appetite after the revelation.

When Regent Lattimer returned to the dining hall, it was a relief, cutting the tension that now hung heavily over the recruits.

"Alright, Recruits." She nodded at the need of their table, "There is no real structure for you to follow. You can train as you please, and you can redo any test whenever you want as often as you want until you pass. The only requirement is that you wake up at six and be at all meal times with lights out at eleven.

"As it stands, the only recruit to pass every test was," she looked down at the tablet in her hands scrolling with her finger, "Recruit Bering."

Myka blushed as she felt every eye turn on her, and she found herself wishing that a hole would open up in the ground and swallow her whole.

"I suggest you all work together, and especially ask Bering how to write a decent report so that you can all pass the program as well as she has."

Myka suddenly felt like she had a target on her back, and it took all her strength not to bolt back to her room to vomit.

* * *

_**AN: **__I won't be updating this again for about a week- two at the most. I want to finish Library of Crazy so that I can give both projects more attention._


	6. Rules Were Made to be Broken

Chapter Five: Rules Were Made to be Broken

"Come on!" Myka turned so she was still running, only know it was backwards so she was facing the four woman following her, "Let's go, you'll never break six minutes if you don't _move faster!_"

"You… don't… have… to… be… such… a… Drill Sargent… Mykes…" Claudia huffed, nearly tripping from the effort to speak as they ran.

"You asked for my help," Myka reminded her as Abigale and Leena moved to run on either side of the youngest female recruit.

"I didn't think you would make me get up at five to run with you _every morning._" The panting red head stopped in the middle of the track, her hands on her knees, working to pull in a deep breath.

"If you wanted to sleep in, you can always ask Pete to help you train." Myka shrugged as she ran back to Claudia's side.

Claudia's face paled as she looked up at Myka, her eyes full of panic. It was no secret that Pete, with the help of Jack and Steve, was trying to get Joshua and Todd's mile times down. And while he acted like an over grown child on a sugar high most of the time, he was working Joshua and Pete into the ground while they helped him with his academic short comings.

Myka had been shocked she'd actually been asked for help. And not just by Claudia for running, but by Rebecca for her speed in the obstacle course, and Leena and Claudia in the gun range, and everyone needed help with report writing. Most surprising was the three military veterans asking for her help retaking the ASVAB.

She had expected to put everyone off with her over achieving tendencies, instead it seemed to help her with making friends. And having friends was an all together new experience for her she found she quite liked.

"Come on, Mykes," Rebecca bumped shoulders with her, "We've pushed her enough for one day. Besides, I want a rematch for yesterday, cheater." She gave a wink before taking off down the track.

"Now who's the cheater?" Myka yelled after her as she resumed running.

"I guess we know who the field agents will be," Leena rolled her eyes as she rubbed soothing circles on Claudia's back and Abigale checked their time.

Over the last two weeks, as the recruits got to know each other more than they ever wanted to, cliques had begun to form. They all got along together pretty well, despite the hot headedness of some and stubbornness of others, they had been surviving surprisingly well together. But friendships and alliances were definitely forming.

Living in the facility had become like living in a bad, day-time-television soap opera.

Myka and Pete bickered like siblings, though they wouldn't allow anyone but themselves bring heat on each other. And Claudia seemed to have been adopted by those two as the surrogate younger sister they were both missing. Which was fine with the red head, who still was comfortable to be left alone in a room with her long lost twin brother who moped around most days like a kicked puppy. She was glad for the interest that Myka and Pete had taken in her, but Claudia had become fast friends with Steve, who had grown a soft spot under his hard, stoic exterior. The two were almost inseparable most days.

Rebecca and Myka sought out one another most days, without realizing it, needing to complain or talk about _something _and not really trusting anyone else. It came to the point where each woman simply knew too much about the other, and it felt like they had been friends for years rather than 16 days. Most of Rebecca's complaints were about Jack, who was an ass by all accounts, but Myka thought her friend spoke of the marine far too much to hate him as much as she was letting on.

Jack and Pete were toxic together. They were so similar to each other, but rather than make them close to one another, it made them almost hate each other. They competed in everything they did, and the testosterone battle led to a couple of shoving matches more than once. It seemed like the only person who could stand to be in the room with Jack for any length of time was Joshua. And they made such an odd duo, brains and brawn.

Todd and Abigale had become close simply because each of them had similar back grounds in education and ability. They had a very comfortable friendship, and unlike Jack and Pete, they seemed to bring out the best in each other. Leena was the only one that everyone got along with all the time. She had a way about her that made her fit in just about anywhere she wanted to.

But the recruits were already beginning to grow restless being trapped in the underground facility twenty four hours a day.

"Coffee," Myka admitted as she sat heavily in the reading chair she bugged one of the agents to bring into her room, "That's what I miss the most." It had been another long day trying to get everyone field ready, and it was slow going with so many conflicting personalities.

"Really?" Rebecca laughed, "Out of everything they've taken away from us, like I don't know, _sunshine_, you pick coffee?"

"Okay, Miss I'm so perfect I don't even have a caffeine addiction," Myka rolled her eyes as Rebecca moved to sit on Myka's bed with her back to the wall, "What do you miss the most? And if you say sunshine, I will hurt you."

"I don't know," Rebecca tried to look distracted as she picked up one of the dozens of books Myka had lying around the room, "I think I'm doing okay."

Myka squinted at the light blush that spread from the other woman's neck to her cheeks. But before she could open her mouth a demand that she share, the door to Myka's room flung open and Pete came shuffling in, falling dramatically on the bed, face down.

Myka and Rebecca exchanged a look as Pete sighed heavily before rolling over.

"Did you need something, Pete?" Myka smirked at him.

"It has been over two weeks," Pete pointed out, "And no one besides you is nowhere near ready to leave yet"

"Your point being?" she pushed.

"Mykes, I _need_ sex," He groaned as he sat up.

"Okay, well that's my cue to leave," Rebecca chuckled as she slid to the edge of the bed.

"No! You stay." Myka pointed at her, "And Pete, please, I am flattered, but you are not my type." Myka crossed her arms as she sat back in her chair.

"I wasn't offering you… hey, hey, hey, wait a minute! What do you mean I'm not your type? I'm _everyone_'s type!" He complained indignantly, an offended look plastered on his face.

"Don't take it so personally," Myka rolled her eyes.

"How am I _not_ supposed to take it personally," Pete demanded, "What are you gonna say next, 'It's not you, it's me'? Because that's _my_ line."

"No," Myka tilted her head, "It is kinda you." She laughed, "Sorry Pete, at this point, sleeping with you would be like sleeping with my brother." She made a face that Pete mimicked.

"Touché." He caved, "But this ban on sex Fredric put out is killing me."

"Oh? And just who would you sleep with?" Myka laughed.

"Don't look at me, you're not my type either." Rebecca laughed as she lifted her hands.

"You both have something seriously wrong with you." Pete glared at them in turn, causing both women to laugh in response.

"_Maybe_, he's got a point." Rebecca got a strange look in her eye.

Myka laughed for a moment before she noticed it, "What, you're serious?"

"Just here me out," she began, but abruptly cut herself off, looking around her. She stood up and carefully walked towards Myka.

"What are you?" Myka started, but a slight shake of the head from Rebecca stopped her.

The redhead, took her hair out of the pins keeping it up so it fell in an auburn curtain around her face. Pete's jaw dropped as Rebecca leaned into Myka, her left hand encircling Myka's right wrist, keeping it pinned to the arm of the chair as she used her right to seemingly brush Myka's hair behind her ear before leaning in. Pete thought for sure the two women were going to start making out in front of him, and he was feeling really conflicted about that. But instead, Rebecca's cheek brushed past Myka's as she leaned in and whispered into the newly uncovered ear. Her breath tickled the back on Myka's neck and her lips brushed Myka's ear, causing her to shiver, but she had to listen carefully to the words Rebecca was saying.

It wasn't until Rebecca straightened herself and strode out of Myka's room without a backwards glance that the silence was broken.

"Dude," Pete chuckled, "What the hell?"

Myka looked from the door to the wide smile on Pete's face. She shook her head free of the fog that washed over here before giving a wary glance at the camera in the corner behind her. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, giving Pete a serious look.

Angling her face away from the surveillance, Myka made a point to take out her ear piece so Pete could see what she was doing before she began talking. Well, not exactly talking, her lips were moving, but no sounds were coming out.

Pete squinted at her, so she repeated the five word sentence again, and again, until realization dawned on his face.

"It's getting late," he groaned, stretching his hands over his head before standing, "I think I have a few minutes to make it back before lights out. Wouldn't want to trip over my own two feet going to my room."

"That would be embarrassing." Myka nodded to him without getting up. She wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, and she waited for him to turn look at her once more under the pretense of bidding her a good night.

She tapped her forefinger and her thumb together once, twice then paused before repeating the motion. Pete's nod was so small, Myka almost missed it, "Good night Mykes, see you on the track tomorrow?"

"I'll be there, I think it would be good if we all ran together tomorrow," she paused for a moment, "You'll let Todd and Josh know? I'll make sure Jack, Abby and Claud show up."

"Becks is gonna wake Jinks and Leena when it's time?" Pete tilted his head.

"I'm sure she'll let them know." Myka nodded.

"Alright, I'll be sing you, Mykes." Pete smiled before closing the door.

Myka made a show of getting herself ready for bed then. Brushing her teeth methodically, showering slowly. She made it back to her twin sized bed just as the lights shut off all around the compound. The only source of lights now were the emergency blue lights every fifty feet in the halls.

"_Good night Ms. Bering," _MARLE chimed.

"Good night, Marls," Myka yawned, "Power down for updates until six hundred."

"Sure thing." The computer agreed before disappearing for the night.

She tapped her fingers on the wall that she shared with the room next to her. She tried to make it seem random, but still so the woman next door could here. She repeated the message twice, hoping she was listening. Then Myka lay in complete silence, staring in the general direction of the door. She counted her heart beats.

_One… Two… Three… Four…_

She let fear have the first sixty.

_Sixty- two… Sixty-three… Sixty-four… Sixty-five…_

She then began the process of talking herself up.

_Four hundred twelve… four hundred thirteen… four hundred fourteen… four hundred fifteen…_

Anxiety took over, and she had to work to keep her breathing and heart beats even.

_One thousand one hundred and eight… one thousand one hundred and nine… one thousand one hundred and ten…_

Now she was just bored, one thousand four hundred beats couldn't come a moment too soon.

She slipped out from beneath the covers, pulling her shoes out from under the frame and her jacket from the back of the chair. She pulled an old Steinbeck novel from the shelf, putting it between the door and the threshold to keep if form closing behind her.

One of the perks of having lights out be so total, no one could see Myka. The down side, she couldn't see Abigale as she ran straight into her.

They both clamped their hands over each other's mouths to stop the surprised gasps they had let out. Myka could barely make out her features in the dim blue lights, but as soon as they made eye contact, they released each other.

"You understood me." Myka's voice was hardly louder than her breath.

Abigale rolled her eyes, though the expression went unseen, "Of course, It was basic Morse. You're a little rusty though."

"Did you tell Jack?" she ignored the jibe.

"Tell Jack what?" his voice came from behind Myka, causing both women to jump and bite back squeals of fear.

"You ass!" Myka hissed as she spun to smack him in the chest.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist." Myka saw his teeth reflect the light as he smiled down at her.

"Let's go," Abigale pulled on Myka's arm, "Before someone hears us."

After only two weeks, Myka knew the halls like the back of her hand. She could have walked from her room to the indoor track blind folded. Which, she supposed, she was sort of doing now. Still, she took her time, and silently directed her two companions, so it took them five minutes to reach the empty cavern.

"Took you long enough!" Rebecca's voice was louder than Myka expected, and she figured it was safe to talk at a normal volume.

Myka, Abigale and Jack's rooms were the furthest from the field, and so they were the last to arrive, the other Seven stood waiting, huddled together talking lowly to one another. Steve was holding a flashlight to his chest so a little light escaped, not enough that they could all see very well, but enough for everyone to see one another when they stood in a tight circle in the middle of the AstroTurf field.

"What's this about?" Steve asked, "If we get caught out of our rooms after lights out, they might kick us from the program."

"Oh, come on Jinksy, live a little why dontcha?" Claudia clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's actually what we're here about," Rebecca spoke up, "I know I'm not the only one who thinks all of these rules are ridiculous, right? I mean, no coffee, no news, no junk food-,"

"No sex," Pete added in a grumble.

"Mustn't forget the sex," Myka rolled her eyes.

"We've been working our asses off, and I don't know about you guys, but I'm one more scantron short of a mental break." She huffed.

"I agree with St. Clair," Jack smirked.

"Of _course_ you do." Myka mumbled and was bumped in the shoulder by Rebecca as a silent plea to shut up.

"I think it's time we had a little fun around here," Jack continued on, "I mean, people in prison have it easier than us."

"Okay, this is only going to work if we all have each other's backs," Rebecca cut in, "So it's all or nothing. Who's in?"

One by one each of the recruits looked to one another before nodding in turn.

"It's settled then," Myka smiled, "We're gonna make this place bearable for however long we're stuck here."

"We'll, since we're all in this now," Claudia shrugged, kicking her foot against the fake grass, "I think I could tell you now that I've been working on a code to hack the systems. I would have to do each AI individually, but," she ended with a shrug.

"That's fantastic!" Josh looked amazed at his twin sister, "How did you do it without being allowed to mess with the computers?"

Claudia looked at him for a second, trying to figure out if he was being sincere or not, "It's still in my head, I need to gather up some supplies to create a driver that can hack the frequency. But once I get what I need, it shouldn't take too long."

"Great," Myka cut off Josh before he could ask her anymore questions, "You keep working on that, let us know what you need. What else have we got?"

"Sex?" Pete perked up.

"You're on your own for that," Myka waved him off, but two others were having a silent conversation, and that's what was holding most of Myka's attention now, "What is it?"

Todd and Abigale looked up, guilty at being caught, "Well," Abigale began, "It started out as sort of a joke."

"We were talking about what would make being here easier," Todd continued, "And I said I needed a stiff drink."

"And then we went on about how easy it is to make alcohol from the sugars in the fruits they give us every day…" Abigale trailed off looking at her partner in crime for back up.

"It started as a joke, but we've been saving up the ingredients we need." Todd admitted.

"Chemists." Jack rolled his eyes.

"What else do you need?" Rebecca spoke over him.

"That we can't get ourselves?" They looked to each other before shrugging in unison, "Time."

"What else are we missing out on?" The redhead went on.

"Caffeine," Myka chimed in, she was desperate for a fix.

"Junk food." Pete sighed, "Cookies, cake, I don't care. I'm tired of all this healthy crap."

"I can't be the only one who's curious about what's going on in the outside world." Steve gave them all a long suffering look, "For all we know, world war four could have broken out. We've been stuck in a hole for over two weeks, that hasn't bothered _any_one else?"

"I've been trying to ignore the claustrophobia, no windows or doors, walls closing in, feelings and you are ruining it!" Claudia accused.

"Well, I have it in good with a couple agents," Leena offered, "I don't know about getting the news, but I can see what I can do about getting out side food brought in."

"Same here," Pete piped up.

"Agent Clark seems to be warming up to me," Myka added, "Maybe if we all started trying to get on the Agent's good sides, they'll help us out."

"So it's agreed then," Rebecca declared, "We're going to work together, have each others' backs. Make this place a little less prison-y."

No one seemed to have any objections, they all only nodded and began whispering to each other, figuring out what each person needed to get a hold of to help other people in the group. It wasn't the first time Myka had seen the recruits rally together, but it still surprised her, gave her hope that they could actually all work together despite the fighting and disagreements.

An hour later as they began to walk back to the rooms, Pete strolled next to Myka in the dark, bumping her with his shoulder and smiling slyly.

"So when you say I'm not your type, what you really mean is-,"

"Drop it, Lattimer." Myka growled threateningly, punching him in the arm.

"OW!" he rubbed his shoulder, but the smile remained on his face, "Geez, touchy, touchy."


	7. Red Handed

Chapter Six: Red Handed

Time began to pass so much easier for the recruits, they hardly noticed days falling away, and before they knew it weeks fell away. They had been at the facility for nearly two months, though they were mostly unaware of that fact.

Rather than slacking, now that they felt the thrill of the chance at being caught breaking rules coupled with the small comforts of home, the recruits worked twice as hard at completing the tasks that were left for them.

The circles beneath Claudia's eyes that had been there longer than anyone knew slowly faded. Josh stopped skulking around the facility like a wounded dog. Rebecca was no longer losing hair on her pillow every morning. Steve no longer shot glances over his shoulder as he walked the hallways. Pete and Jack's fighting had been kept to a minimum. Todd was eating normally once again. Abigale slept through the night. Leena no longer questioned whether or not she belonged there. And Myka no longer felt as if something was going to go wrong any minute.

And low and behold, the recruits began passing their tests without stressing as much as they had been over them. And a camaraderie developed between them as they adopted this view that it was them versus us when it came to the agents and the long absent Regent Lattimer.

Rebecca and Myka were practicing their closed quarter combat when things took a sharp left turn for the recruits.

By this point, everyone had passed their martial arts and grappling training, now they mostly used it to let off steam, such as the two women were doing now. They fought each other every day, asking different agents to show them new techniques, then practicing it on each other.

"You hit like a girl!" Myka taunted with a smile as she quickly stepped backwards, rubbing her jaw as she side stepped in time with her friend.

Rebecca snorted, "At least I can land a hit. Do you need to go grab your glasses, Specs?" She taunted in return.

It was the same routine they went through each day, exchanging playful jests with each hit to take the sting from the blows. Even though they tried to pull their punches and just go through the motions, that didn't prevent them from hurting each other often.

Rebecca's next hit landed with her full weight behind it, catching Myka between her ribs and hip. She pulled away with a gasp when Myka cried involuntarily out in pain.

"Ohmygosh," Rebecca held her taped hands to her mouth, walking carefully to Myka's doubled over form, "Are you okay? I expected you to-,"

She was unable to finish her sentence. Unfortunately for St. Clair, her concern for her friend lead to her being quickly thrown to her back. Myka had lunged forward when she was in range, her shoulder catching Rebecca in the stomach, and using her momentum to flip her over. Rebecca hit the ground hard, her breath knocked out of her. Myka used her knees to pin her hips down as her hands held her arms above her head.

"You bitch." Rebecca glared at her, a look Myka returned until both women erupted in laughter.

Bering rose to her feet, pulling the other woman up with her, "That's not my fault. Are you really going to stop in the middle of a fight to ask the other guy if he's okay?"

"I guess not." Rebecca allowed, before using her grip on Myka's hand to pull the taller woman towards her, wrapping her leg behind Myka's legs, and shoving her backwards.

Now it was Myka who lay staring up at the ceiling, blinking black spots away as Rebecca lay sprawled across her laughing, her weight keeping Myka pinned.

"Secord," Pete put his arm out, stopping his own sparring partner from walking any further on to the practice mats, "Please tell me I'm not dreaming, and there really are two hot, half naked chicks rolling on the floor right now."

Jack smirked, "The temperature in hell must have just dropped because, for once Lattimer, I'm with you."

Myka and Rebecca looked up at the two new comers, wearing nothing but their gym shorts and twin devilish grins. "Hey guys." The girls stood up, trying to fight back the smiles, not wanting the guys to think they didn't take the hand to hand training seriously.

"Please, don't stop on our account," the blond ex-Marine took a few steps into the room,  
"Pete and I were just about to resume our own never ending sparring match. I think I have a chance at coming out on top, maybe you could give me a few pointers, eh Becks?"

Myka snorted and Rebecca shot her a death glare, before turning back to the smiling man suddenly standing too close to her, but she refused to back down, "Not that I don't want to see two hot, sweaty guys fighting," She mimicked the way Pete had sounded upon entering the room, "But I've got places to be, come on Myka."

"Aw come on!" Pete complained jokingly.

"Sorry boys," Myka winked as she followed Rebecca's quickly retreating form, "We'll kick your asses some other time."

"She totally wants me." Jack declared as one of the agents began to wrap his hands.

"Who Myka?" Pete scoffed, "Yeah right."

"What? Why not Myka?" Jack turned to face him, not pointing out that it was the redhead he was talking about.

"If I'm not her type, you're sure as hell not her type." Pete shrugged.

"You think that just because you've gotten lucky a few times that every girl wants you, let me tell you Lattimer, did you stop to think that the women stuck down here are just as desperate as you and you just happen to be convenient for them?" Jack challenged.

Pete's explanation about Myka's questionable sexuality quickly fell away as his chest puffed out, "If you think I can't get whoever I want, I'll prove it. I bet you I can get St. Clair in my bunk begging for it by the end of the week."

Jack's face flushed in red, and Pete knew he hit the right nerve, "Oh? You've got a little crush on her, don't you?"

"Shut up," Jack snapped, "You shut the hell up."

"What's the matter Jack-y boy? Can't step up to the plate?" Pete pressed on as the two men began to circle one another, "Don't worry, buddy, I'll take real good care of her."

"Oh? While you're busy with Becks, you won't mind if I take a swing at Myka then?" Jack barked back, "I know you've had a thing for her since we've gotten here, and she continues to treat you like a brother. Have you seen the way she looks at me though? Not very brotherly at all. She could be fun for a little while…"

Pete lunged forward and Jack met him half way there.

It wasn't the sparing that Rebecca and Myka had danced out moments before. There was no playful jabs, no one was pulling their punches. Weeks of small skirmishes, weeks of butting heads, weeks of each of them vying for dominance finally brought them to this moment, this breaking point where both men let go of the last restraints they were holding on to, keeping them from snapping.

It was violent and visceral, and it lasted only a few minutes before the two agents standing by pulled them off one another, trying to talk sense into the two men who were still seeing red.

Colonel Neilson made his appearance then, "Hey! That's enough! Knock it off!" he shouted, shoving himself between the two struggling recruits, placing a hand on each of their chests, and though he was a head shorter than both of them, Pete and Jack's military conditioning kicked in at the sight of a commanding officer and they straightened.

They were breathing heavily, still killing each other with looks, but sanity had returned to the situation and they no longer needed the agents to hold them apart.

"You children need to take this play ground brawl and squash it! This isn't a daycare, this is a government training facility. You're Marine's for God's sake! Start acting like it." He took off his glasses, using the hem of his shirt to clean them as he gathered himself, "Just… go take a cold shower, and maybe take that time to figure out a way to take your heads out of your asses."

"Yes, sir." They both responded automatically before heading to the men's lockeroom in silence.

"Keep an eye on them," Arthur barked at the two agents, "And if you two can't even keep the recruits off each other, maybe you'll need to go through the program again yourselves."

The agents took the verbal lashing without a word, but both imagined several scenarios that would leave them gratefully without the presence of the Colonel.

"This isn't over, Secord," Pete mumbled as they stood facing each other at their lockers, "You and me, we're gonna have a rematch."

"You bet your privileged ass we are. And none of this agent's interfering shit," Jack huffed as he wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, "You and me Lattimer, after lights out at the field. We'll see who's leaving here on a stretcher."

Pete gave a bloody smile, making his usually goofy grin seem deranged, "Yeah, okay, Secord. And there won't be anyone there to save you next time."

"_Save me_?" Jack scoffed, "You sure I didn't knock something loose up there." He tapped on Pete's forehead, pulling his hand back before Pete could lunge at him, "I don't know what fight you were in, but I was on the winning end back there."

"I knew love could make you blind, they didn't say anything about making you stupid too." Pete smirked at him.

Jack took a threatening step toward Pete, who just put a hand on his shoulder and held him back, "Save your energy for tonight, Jack, you'll need it."

* * *

Claudia was in one of the class rooms, trying to get Steve to pass his SATs with a higher score when Josh walked in.

Too involved with the practice test on the table in front of them to notice his presence at first, the Caltech graduate slowly sidestepped his way to stand beside his agitated sister.

"Seriously, Jinksy? How did you get his far in life without getting through simple trigonometry?" she demanded, working hard not to pull her hair out at the roots.

"By joining the army as soon as I had my high school diploma in hand?" Steve tried, worried that his friend was quickly losing patience with him.

"Are you trying to be funny?" Claudia growled.

"No?" Steve shrunk back.

"Hey, Claud?" Josh came unknowingly came to Steve's rescue, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yeah, what is it Josh?" Claudia sighed as she faced her estranged twin.

"Jack is on the war path, and I thought I should warn you, since I know you're friends with Pete…" Josh was torn between his friend and telling his sister something that seemed to eb a big deal.

"What's wrong with Pete?" Claudia straightened from her slouch.

"It's nothing really…" Josh tried to back pedal, still not having made up his mind.

"You're lying." Steve pointed out, suddenly very interested in this conversation.

"Just tell me what's going on, Joshua." Claudia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay, okay," Josh took a breath, looking around before lowering his voice, "Apparently something happened on the spar mats today, and Jack and Pete got into it. They're planning on _finishing_ it _later_." He tried to get her to understand without saying too much to the agents who were most likely listening in.

"The late mile?" She asked, referring to the times they met up after lights out on the track to hang out and exchange the different contraband they had gotten ahold of.

Josh nodded, eyes wide,

"What were they fighting about?" Steve asked, concerned for his friends.

Josh rolled his eyes and shrugged, a gesture that reminded the ex-Ranger of his new best friend, "Who knows, those two fight over everything. I think this was just an acclimation of every fight. Look, I'm friends with Jack, but I don't think Pete's necessarily a bad guy, I figured you guys could try to, I don't know, if not talk sense into him, help him out?"

Claudia nodded, "Thanks Josh."

* * *

The rumor mill worked quickly, not that difficult since there were only ten people in the loop. When Claudia went off to catch Myka up on the battle royal that was planned for the evening, Steve complained about it to Todd, who was in the midst of running his mile, saying the rumors had pulled his tutor away from him in the middle of the SAT's practice test. He had been hoping to get Todd's help, instead, Todd also went off to catch Abigale up, and to create a pool on who the winner would be, arriving just in time to watch her complete the obstacle course.

"Fuck it." Steve threw his hands up and went back to the SATs classroom to retake the test for the second time.

Myka dropped what she was doing as soon as Claudia told her what the guys were planning, they quickly rushing off to tell Rebecca, knowing how she felt about Jack even if she herself wasn't willing to admit it aloud.

They found them in the behavioral studies room, running through the program again and again. Myka waited until they were done with their current round before breaking the news.

"Are you kidding me?" Rebecca shot to her feet, causing Leena to glance worriedly at her aura, "They can't be serious. Why are they doing this?"

Myka shrugged, "No one seems to know what it's about this time. But I think we should be there to keep them from killing themselves. Or worse, get themselves caught and kicked out of the program."

"Of course you would think that being kicked out would be worse than our friends killing each other!" Rebecca snapped as she began to pace back and forth.

"Well did you think that maybe they would bring us down with them?" Myka shot back, "I don't know about you, but I don't exactly have a good situation waiting for me back home. Not _everyone_ has a degree and military experience to fall back on!"

"If Pete would just stop acting like such a hormonal teenager, we wouldn't even have this problem." Rebecca muttered.

"Excuse me?" Myka grabbed Rebecca's arm, pulling her to a stop and leveling a glare at her, "What makes you think this is Pete's fault? Your boy wonder is the one with the anger management problems! But you're too blinded by your feelings for him to see what we all see in him."

"Oh please Myka, enough of the jealous girlfriend shit," Rebecca yanked her arm out of Myka's grasp, "I knew you had a little crush on me, but this is ridiculous."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, St. Clair." Myka rolled her eyes, not letting the words hurt her, "My taste runs a bit higher than, well, _you_."

Rebecca huffed in indignation, "I hope Jack kicks Pete's ass."

"Good thing you're not attracted to Jack, right?" Myka tilted her head, "Since Pete's going to be rearranging his face tonight."

Myka and Rebecca were standing toe to toe each willing the other to back down first.

"Is there a problem in here?" a passing by agent asked as he stuck his head in.

"No," the two facing off spoke simultaneously before turning on their heels and storming out different doors.

"What the hell just happened?" Claudia stage whispered to a stunned Leena.

"I have no clue," Leena shook her head, "But if I had to guess, this fight just got a whole lot bigger and more complicated than before."

* * *

There was a fissure that had split the group, becoming most obvious when the recruits sat down for the last meal of the day. For the first time since arriving, the recruits didn't sit together at the same table.

Pete, Myka and Claudia sat at one end of the dining hall, Jack, Rebecca and Joshua at the other, with Steve, Abigale, Leena and Todd in the middle at the usual table. Agents took notice and tried to ask each of the recruits what was going on, but they clamed up, faking that everything was business as usual in the facility.

Claudia was focused on working on a device under the table to scramble that day's AI recordings, knowing from recon that whoever was going through their AI data was at least 18 hours behind at all times. She didn't want any of their superiors knowing everything that had gone down that day, and all that was about to happen that evening.

Myka was playing with her food, rather than eating it, the words that she had said and the ones that had been said to her finally taking root in her. She felt like shit for what she said in anger to Rebecca, and her chest hurt from the sharp words that had been flung at her. She had finally made friends, and now it was all going away because of one stupid fight.

Rebecca wasn't feeling much different from Myka. She wished she could take back the things she had said, and wished that Myka's own words hadn't hurt as much as they did. While she was still largely angry, she sincerely hoped that they would all come out the other end of this and still manage to be friends like they had been.

Josh was trying to talk Jack down without sounding like he was taking sides, but Jack wasn't hearing any of it. Jack and Pete were both stubborn, and their pride wouldn't let them back down now, especially that everyone else knew about it.

Nineteen minutes after lights out, Myka drug her feet to the field. The seven others who weren't planning on trading blows that evening had apparently had the same idea as her- to get there before Jack and Pete.

Her eyes found Rebecca, her heart still twisting from their earlier fight. When Rebecca glance up, she tilted her head, indicating that she wanted a word alone with her. They stepped off a few feet, leaving the others to speculate whether or not they too would be fighting.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca twisted her hands nervously in front of her.

"I'm sorry, too," Myka rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes looking everywhere except at her friend, "Look, I'm not good at the whole making friends thing, so I don't have practice in the _keeping _of friends either, but I know that I should explain myself. The whole attraction thing…"

"No, Myka, really," Rebecca held her hands up, "I'm sorry I said that."

"It's not that I don't find you attractive," Myka went on, trying to get through this with as little embarrassment as possible, "God, I've never talked about this before out loud. Gender hasn't ever played a big part for me in attraction. Any part at all really. Boy, girl, doesn't matter, I like hot people, and that's shallow, but it's the truth. I just got really good at not letting myself fall for straight girls. So I want to be friends with you because I genuinely like you as a person, not because I'm carrying a torch for you."

"You think I'm hot." Rebecca smiled slyly.

"Really? That's all you got from that?" Myka laughed, but she was glad that the conversation was going over more smoothly than she expected.

They laughed for a moment together before the sound of a commotion erupted behind them. Jack and Pete had arrived, and wasted no time in picking up where they left off. Myka and Rebecca rushed to them, pushing past the other recruits who were just standing by, watching and playing referee to the no holds bar match happening.

Myka wrapped her hands around Pete's stomach, using her momentup and built up speed to knock him to the ground while Rebecca moved to where he had been standing, putting her hands on Jack's shoulders and shoving him back.

"Get out of the way, Becks," he growled trying to side step her, but Rebecca took his legs out from underneath him.

"Enough, that's enough Jack, you have to stop!" she yelled at him while Myka was saying something similar to Pete, "Whatever it's about, you have to stop before-,"

Blinding lights lit the stadium, the recruits tried to shield their eyes against them. By the time they recovered enough to think that perhaps they should scatter, it was too late. They were surrounded by dozens of frowning agents, lea by a stoic Jane Lattimer, a scowling Arthur Nielson, and Dr. Vanessa Calder, who seemed to be fighting a smile.

Myka helped Pete to his feet quickly as Rebecca pulled Jack up. The recruits quickly closed ranks around each other, ignoring all feuds as they were met with a common enemy.

"And just what the hell do you think you're all doing?" Arthur demanded, knowing full well what was going on.

Jack and Pete looked at one another, "Practicing our mile times?" Jack offered and Pete had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out.

"Did you all think you could get away with everything you've been doing for the last six weeks and we wouldn't know?" Vanessa shook her head at them, but she had to admit, she was impressed with what they did manage to get away with before they had been clued in by their actions that very day.

"I have half a mind to cut you all from the Warehouse program and send you all back to your 'real' lives." Jane looked at each of them in turn, watching the panic and fear flash in some of their eyes for a split second before being covered up quickly with empty expressions, "You are all just luck that none of you are still recruits. As of today, the last of you passed the last of the tests required of Warehouse Agents."

"Wait," Myka spoke up, "You mean, we're done? All of us?" She couldn't imagine passing on without everyone in their group.

"Yes, _Agent _Bering, for the first time ever, every recruit trained for a team has passed without a single one quitting." She nodded, "Even more surprising, as you all broke the rules, and even fought, you had each other's backs. You were able to put the grudges behind you when presented with a new threat, namely me. And being able to hide this from us for so long, to be able to conceal your feelings, proves to me you're ready for the mission we've been assigned."

"So, you're saying…?" Steve fought a smile.

"Congratulations," Vanessa nodded to them.

"You are all officially Warehouse Agents." Jane finished for her.

A cheer went up among the newest Agents, even Jack and Pete seemed friendly with one another in that moment.

"Pack up, Agents," Neilson barked over the commotion, "We're leaving at zero six-hundred hours. We have a long trip ahead of us tomorrow."

The agent's ignored their senior agent's order, instead, spending their last night in the facility on the field, burning through the last of their contraband. Laughing and celebrating their survival.

Jane, Vanessa and Arthur watched them from a distance.

"Are you sure about them?" Colonel Nielson frowned at how foolish they seemed.

Jane nodded, "I am. They are the best recruits I've seen in a long time, and more importantly, they make the best _team_ I've ever seen."

"You haven't even told us what the mission is, Jane," Vanessa pointed out, "But I'm assuming you've been briefed. Do you think they- _we_ will be able to handle it with such a small team?"

Jane sighed, "We don't have a choice. There is no plan B for this."


	8. Welcome to the Warehouse

_**AN: **__In honor of my one year anniversary since discovering this show, I made sure to get an update that was a bit longer than usual out today._

_**AN2:**__ Humdinger: Patience friendship,__she shall make her appearance shortly (next chapter or the one after that for sure) but don't get too excited, you may be annoyed with me in fact._

* * *

**Chapter Seven:** Welcome to the Warehouse

Myka felt like death warmed over. Her tolerance for alcohol had seriously been diminished over the last month and a half. Despite all of this coupled with the pounding in her head and being awake far too early for her taste, Myka found herself excited.

They were done. There was no more training, no more tests. They were _done_.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" Myka asked her ever present AI as she gestured towards the half-filled cardboard boxes on the stripped twin bed. They held the clothes and books she had acquired since arriving, and she had become strangely attached to them.

"Another agent will be by for them shortly." MARLE replied after checking the schedule, "They'll be shipped to your new home."

"And you still aren't going to tell me where exactly that is?" Myka tried once more as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

"I can't, Agent Bering," MARLE mimicked a long suffering tone, "Today, after I receive my upgrade, I'll have access to that information, but as of now, you know as much as I do."

"What, Claudia's upgrades weren't good enough for you?" She joked as she retied her shoes for the fifth time.

"While Agent Donovan's upgrades were against regulation, they were helpful. But they were mostly helpful for you and the other recruits so you could change your own schedules." The AI sounded almost scolding as she spoke.

"Mykes!" Pete let himself into the room without knocking, "Are you ready to blow this Popsicle stand, or what?"

Myka shook her head at him as he bounced from one foot to the other. Pete was the only one of them who wouldn't be suffering from a hangover. He was five years sober, and had no plans of relapsing to the person he had been before.

"Yeah, I'm coming." She rolled her eyes and smiled before silently bidding her room farewell. She wouldn't _miss_ it exactly, but it had still become comfortable for her. Familiar. And now she was giving it up for a more exciting life. It was harder to leave the small room than it had been to give up her nice apartment in Denver.

Pete skipped off to go bug Steve while Myka walked to Rebecca's room. She found her sitting on the twin sized bed, her own boxes still empty. She had her thumbnail between her teeth, staring off into space with a concerned look plastered to her face.

Myka knocked softly on the threshold, "What are you doing Becks?"

"Huh?" she jerked her gaze up to Myka, looking guilty, "What are you talking about?"

"You haven't packed anything yet," she pointed to the empty boxes, "We're supposed to meet Nielson in the dining hall in ten minutes and you haven't packed up your stuff yet."

Rebecca looked around the room, she had a few notebooks on the desk, clothes scattered carelessly about in some corners of the room, "Why would I want to bring any of this with me? None of it's really mine. It was just for while we were here."

"Why do I get the feeling that this whole gloomy attitude isn't about the jeans and t shirts that are in your drawers?" Myka stepped into the room, carefully sitting herself on the bed beside her friend.

Rebecca refused eye contact, "I don't know what you're talking about. Of course this is about the clothes that aren't even mine, so why should I be able to take them with me?"

"Becks…" Myka ducked her head so Rebecca was forced to look at her.

"Can we not talk about this now, Myka?" she plead, looking at the door where the other new agents were walking past, laughing and walking towards the dining hall. When it was Jack who paused at Rebecca's door way, she looked away, and Myka caught it.

"Hey, are you guys coming, or what?" Jack stuck his head in, looking only at Rebecca, a confused tilt to his head.

"Yeah, we'll be right there." Myka waved him away.

Jack shrugged and walked off.

Myka sighed, she stood up, "Okay, we won't talk about it now, but you really do need to put some things in those boxes, and quickly. Otherwise you'll have nothing to where when we get to our post."

Myka took charge, emptying the drawers into the boxes, gathering the filled notebooks around the room and adding them to the untidy pile before shoving the flaps closed.

"Becks," Myka turned back to her, she hadn't moved an inch, and still was staring off into space, "Rebecca St. Clair," She pulled her to her feet, "Come on, you can tell me all about what happened between you and Jack later, but for now, we're running late."

"Nothing happened between me and…" She stopped when she saw the skeptical look on her friend's face, "Yeah all right, but I don't want to talk about it."

"But you will," Myka pushed her from the room, "And when you do, I will listen and respond with all the proper reactions. But for now, you squash those feelings down so we can get out of here."

"I think your vast sympathy is my favorite thing about you." Rebecca mumbled as she allowed herself to be led down the hall.

Much as predicted, the rest of the newly christened agents were waiting for them as well as Regent Lattimer, and Agents Nielson, Calder and Fredric. It was then that it occurred to a few of the agents that the facility had felt far emptier than usual. There was no longer the odd suited agent walking around. All they saw before them now, was all that was left. The rest of the agents had returned to their normal duties, no longer needed here.

"Took you guys long enough." Claudia groaned.

"Shall we?" Jane cut in before any sibling like bickering could ensue.

She walked to the wall behind the serving counter, pressing her hand to the side of one of the panels. There was a loud beep, and the panels pulled away to reveal a large elevator.

"You've got to be shitting me." Jack scoffed, "There has been an elevator _right here _the whole time?"

"Yes, Agent Secord," Jane fought to hide a smile, "Hiding in plain sight has always been a favorite in our line of work."

The agents all looked at one another before collectively shrugging at the strangeness of it all and filing on to the elevator, ending up with barely enough room for all fourteen adults. There was only one button, and the Regent pushed it in.

There was a jerk, signaling the beginnings of upward movement of the elevator. Minutes passed, and just when the panic of claustrophobia began to set in for a few agents, they came to a sudden stop.

"Where are we?" The agents' eyes filled with equal parts bewilderment and wonder as the elevator doors slid open to reveal a large, open lobby of a government building.

Marble floors and high ceilings, the large windows letting in natural light. Wide coeloms interspaced equally around the circular room, duel wide stair cases leading to a balcony floor. It was decorated simplistically in a color scheme of black and white, and in the center of the room proudly stood a larger than life alabaster statue depicting Lady Justice. The only offer of relief form the harsh contrast was found here in the golden scales, the black blind fold, and the silver double edged sword.

Agents, dressed stereotypically in black suits and grim faces, hustled about, hurrying to get to their assignments, to check in on current cases and tie up any loose ends before handing them over to the lawyers. Regents wearing more casual, but still business like attire, walking at a more leisurely pace to their own offices.

"Welcome to Warehouse 1." Irene smiled as she ushered the awestruck agents off the elevator.

"Are you kidding me?" Jack scoffed, "We've been beneath the Warehouse this whole time?"

"I am _so_ underdressed." Pete grumbled and Myka had to agree with him.

They hadn't been given much of a selection in their own wardrobe, and therefore were all dressed similarly- and rather plainly- in t-shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes.

"That's rather the point," Jane assured her son curtly without any further explanation, "Let's go, we have a lot to do and a ticking clock baring down on us."

"Where are we going?" Claudia piped up, unable to keep her eyes from darting around nervously as they trailed after their Regent.

"First things first, we must stop by legal." She led them to the left set of stairs, waving to the rather large man behind the reception desk between the sets of steps.

The ornate stairs were merely for aesthetics, and lead only to the second floor. They took a side door hidden flight of stairs. Seven floors and dozens of ignored, mumbled complaints later, Jane announced that they had arrived.

"May I help you?" A young woman with platinum blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail asked from behind a desk. Her voice was pleasant, but the tilt of her head told the agents that their presence there confused her.

She was surprised, after all. There was nothing on the schedule that day for her bosses' that would indicate a group of men and women should be expected. Not to mention they all filed out of the stairwell, a stricter used only for heating up different office romances as far as the assistant was concerned.

"Regent Kosan sent for us." Jane assured the worried looking girl as she ushered the very out of place seeming group past her desk without signing in.

She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out. She didn't recognize the ten individuals following the older agents, and from the stern look the Regent gave her when caught gawking, she didn't think she was supposed to.

The agent's followed their supervisors in a tight group to an empty conference room with a long oak table, large enough to seat a group twice their size.

The agents found seats, and Irene Fredric tried not to snap at them when a few of the more immature of them began to swivel slightly in their chairs as she passed out thick, stapled stacks of papers from her brief case.

"These are your contracts," She informed them, "Read them, sign them, _adhere_ to them." She frowned at them, knowing they had broken every single one of the rules she had laid down for them when they had first arrived to the training facility.

"Yeah," Pete stretched the word out as he thumbed through the dozens of pages, "Could you maybe give us the fast and dirty version of this? Not all of us are speed readers." He shot a look to Myka whose eyes were flitting over lines and pages at a ridiculous rate.

"Fine," Irene groaned, knowing many of these agents, many of the experienced agents, would never read the contracts they sign, "First and foremost, the nature of your work, your individual team's work, is _extremely _confidential. And that will become evident when you are debriefed on your mission later. For now, what you must know is that you get _one. One _person with whom you may share the true nature of your work. So make your choices wisely, because failure to follow this rule will result in charges of treason at the very least."

"Whoa," Pete mumbled as he looked away from the intense stare of the lawyer.

She went on to list several things which they could not do, and even more things which they must do. She highlighted that they were signing over much of the next ten years of their lives, and how breaking any part of their contract would lead to charges of treason.

By the time she was finished going through the document, the ten agents had all signed them, each deciding that the drawbacks were far outweighed by the benefits of this job.

It was then that a tall, stoic man made his entrance. Irene collected the contracts while the agents' attentions were diverted. He was bald, but with thick black eye brows, his olive skin suggesting that he may have been a foreigner. His pressed suit, silk tie and tendency to look down his nose at the agents in the room suggested that he was in charge.

This was Head Regent Kosan. While that title was handed off every three years, more often if suspicion dictated, he was often nominated by the other Regents to handle the most serious of matters of the council.

"Having signed the documents you just have, I can officially welcome you to the supreme law enforcement agency," He spoke to them, his voice rich with an accent they couldn't quite place, "This group, this team, is the entirety of the newly forming Warehouse 13, at least for the time being. Now, your Senior Agent will brief you on your mission when you ship out, but you need to know now, that your very existence is top secret and need to know, even within this building. Keep that in mind as you finish up your business in this building. I can't answer any of your questions. But what I can do, is give you your badges and weapons."

He pulled out a silver box, in each was a silver bag with serial numbers on them. Without double checking in any sort of way that the agents could discern, he walked around the table, presenting each agent with one.

Myka upended her bag as soon as it was in her hand. Out tumbled a gold shield, The words US FEDERAL AGENT in red lettering, surrounding a depiction of Lady Justice, underneath followed seven numbers, unique to each agent. Then came the heavy, but familiar weight of a gun.

"I'm more of a Beretta man myself," Pete commented as he got familiar with his weapon, "But the P226 aint half bad either." He smirked.

"These weapons are only to be used as a last resort," Kosan spoke up, "While you have all passed your weapons qualifications, you'll be issued your less-than-lethals on the upper levels to use. Your badges symbolize you as special agents with the highest security clearance. Use it wisely. Lastly, I want to thank you all for your commitment to the Warehouse and to the United States." He nodded curtly to the agents, all of whom had adopted identical looks of suspicion.

Just what had they gotten themselves into?

They were not given the opportunity to ask, for as soon as Kosan made his hasty exit, their supervisors quickly took them four more levels up to their next, and final stop before leaving the Warehouse 1 building.

"Research and Development?" Claudia questioned as they looked around the seemingly empty floor.

"We call it _Science Engineering and Technology,_" Jane rolled her eyes before looking down at her watch, "But, yes."

Two bizarre looking men suddenly appeared before the wary group.

"Hello, who might you be?" His dark brown hair was wild, leaving the agents to wonder if the man had even heard of a brush or gotten a trim.

"Clam down Philo, you'll scare them," the man with slicked back, sand colored hair chided him, "Hello Regent Lattimer, what can we do for you today? Regent Kosan said to expect you…?"

"Indeed," she quirked an eyebrow but turned to her charges, "Agents, this is Philo Farnsworth and Nikola Tesla, they run our, what did you call it, research and development teams."

"Wait, you're not _the_ Farnsworth and Tesla…" Myka shook her head.

"Sadly no," Philo chuckled, "Just the decedents of those great men, blessed with their knowledge and good looks." He winked at her.

Rebecca coughed to cover her giggle and Myka dug her elbow into her ribs.

"Keep it in your pants man!" Nikola smacked his partner in the back of the head before addressing the Regent once more, "Please excuse Philo, he's taken one too many shocks I'm afraid."

Jane waved him off, "I would love to continue this, really, but we are on a bit of a schedule, so if you would be so kind as to equip these agents with the technologies they will need?"

"Of course!" He stood straighter, "Nanotech first, I assume? Right this way." He lead them through a series of hall ways, past dozens of closed steel doors with different markings on them.

"Is it just me, or is it a ghost town in here?" Todd murmured leaving the others to agree with him. All any of them could hear was the sound of their own footsteps on the linoleum walk way, and it was chilling.

"Kosan asked us to clear the floor for your arrival," Philo stage whispered as he once again managed to startle the agents by appearing in the middle of their group without detection, "Care to share why you've all become the company's biggest secret?"

"Sorry," Leena smirked, trying not to stare at the odd aura surrounding this peculiar man, "We're afraid we just can't share that information."

Philo stuck out his lower lip, but it was to no avail. Neilson, though he would never say so out loud, was proud of his new charges. They were taking all of this in stride, and had thus far closed ranks around each other, exactly how he would need them to in the field.

They arrived in a room, each standing around a long metal table with ten tubes, each labeled with a serial number that Myka quickly realized matched with those on the badges they were issued.

"Philo, stop staring at the Agents," Nikola snapped, "You're up."

"Yes, yes," the brunet rolled his eyes before pushing his way to the table, "In these tubes are a creature of my own creation. Nanobots, that we will insert into your ear, and they will make their way to your brain before setting down in your central nerves system as well as your sensory input centers. They are individually programmed with your AI's assigned to you. It will connect them to you and you to your Warehouse, monitoring absolutely everything you do. Any questions?"

Jack slowly raised his hand, "Yeah, um, what the fuck?" he spoke the question flitting through each of their minds, "You're doing _what_ now?"

"I assure you, it isn't painful," Philo waved him off, "It's simply a way to connect you to your artificial intelligence, and a way for the Warehouse to watch your vitals as well as everything you see and hear."

"Simple, _right_." Jack made a whirling motion by his temple as he shot Josh a wide eyed look.

"Look, agents, we don't really have time for this, do you mind if we get started?" Jane addressed Farnsworth.

"First up," Philo clapped his hands as he squinted at the tubes on the table, "Ah! CHAD! Developed here in this very lab! Who was he assigned to?"

Steve warily stepped forward, "CHAD's not a _he_," Steve rubbed the back of his neck, "Doesn't like the 'human gender binary assignment'"

"Never mind that now, sir, if you wouldn't mind kindly tilting your head so your nose is horizontal with the ground… Perfect! Now hold still, this shouldn't hurt… at least I don't think so…" Philo upended the tube over Steve's offered ear.

"Gah!" Steve jerked but Philo's firm grip kept him from righting himself, "That feels so weird!"

"Count to a hundred before standing up," Philo ordered before shoving him off, "Next up, Warehouse 2… LANA?" he picked up the tube, "If I recall correctly, the scientist responsible for her was quite thrilled-,"

"Him," Rebecca stepped forward, interrupting him, "LANA is a _him_. Let's get this over with." She swept her hair out of the way before taking up the same position as Jinks.

Jinks' reaction had somewhat prepared her for the tickling sensation that trickled down her ear canal, but she still had to suppress the squeal that tried to escape. It went on like that, each agent stepping forward when Philo tried to give a little antidote about their AI's, more than once he had to be corrected to the proper pronouns- Jack's PAUL preferred _she_, Leena's DASH and Abigale's WILL also both non-binary- but he took it all with good humor, impressed at the complexity of the programs.

Myka was the last to walk up, since Philo had gone in order of Warehosue, and MARLE was developed in Warehouse 12, which explained the thick Louisiana accent she possessed. He then went to a computer console and, one by one, activated each of the AI's. And while the agent's reacquainted themselves with them, Philo passed over a hard drive to Regent Lattimer.

"All the programs for their AI's are on there," he assured her, "Including the back-ups."

"Thank you, Agent Farnsworth," she nodded, "And I do believe we have one last thing from you, Agent Tesla? We really must be on our way…"

"I understand," Nikola nodded before pulling out ten strangely shaped guns from the locked cabinets beneath the table. "These weapons were designed as less-than-lethal weaponry for Warehouse Agents. Much like every day tasers, they emit an electrical charge via Tesla Coils. Hence why they are called Teslas."

"And here I thought it was because of that giant ego of yours, Nikola." Philo nudged him.

Tesla rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored his partner as he gave each agent one of the odd guns, "While they are labeled as less than lethal, they are very dangerous, especially at close range. And I do not recommend turning the dial up to the highest level. Use it wisely, it needs to be recharged often to be of any use."

"These aren't exactly standard issue, are they?" Myka mumbled as she looked the weapon over carefully.

"If we can find a way to improve them and convince the Regents, one day they shall be." Nikola assured her.

"All right!" Jane recalled their attentions once more, "If that is all, we really must be headed off to the tarmac, the jet won't wait much longer. Thank you, Agents Tesla and Farnsworth, for taking the time out of your busy schedules to assist us."

"It was our pleasure," Farnsworth bowed with great grandeur while Tesla sighed exasperatedly at him.

"Come on, off to the jet." Jane turned on her heel and walked on.

But the new agents were looking around at each other for a moment, each still holding in their hands their new weapons.

"I'm not still in the loony bin, am I?" Claudia shook her head, "I mean, we have voices in our heads, no offense ERIN, and ray guns… It… it's crazy right?"

"If you are, then we're all here with you." Steve assured her.

"Children!" Nielson barked from the door way, "Jet fuel isn't cheap, stop lazing around and get a move on it!"

"Well, I guess it's too late to back out now anyway." Myka shrugged before leading the group to follow the older agents.


	9. The Brotherhood

Chapter Nine: The Brotherhood

Flying made Claudia nervous, that mush was obvious as she kept tapping her foot rapidly on the floor. The sound filled the small cabin, and it was driving several of the other passengers insane. Steve was working to keep her distracted, but her nerves wouldn't allow relaxation for any amount of time.

More than once, it had been quietly suggested they sedate the girl for the sanity of the rest, but those were only jests… well mostly… at first anyway…

Otherwise, it had been a quite flight thus far, the G550 holding only the team members, even the pilot was Dr. Calder with Colonel Nielson as her co-pilot. And as soon as they had gotten comfortable in the plane, Jane informed them that she couldn't share any information with them yet. Deeming the information too sensitive to give out until they arrived at their final destination.

The agents were becoming quickly annoyed with the secretive nature of their new boss. The clandestine aspect of the job they were going into had been thrilling at first, now they were just itching to know what was so damn _sensitive_ that they had to hire a brand new team that no one knew about, and then not tell them what it was they were supposed to be doing. And just why a plane thirty thousand feet in the air owned by the largest government law enforcement agency wasn't a private enough setting for their paranoid Regent.

"Indiana," Myka bit her thumb nail as she looked over the flight plan, "Lake County, Indiana private air field."

"What the hell is in Lake County, Indiana?" Rebecca's lip twitching disdainfully, as she glanced over her friend's shoulder.

"It's the edge of the liberated territories." Myka said thoughtfully, glancing out the window, "That's as far as the Warehouse's influences go."

"So were going to Indiana?" Rebecca's eyebrow quirked as she tried- unsuccessfully- to read Myka's face.

"I don't think so, I mean, Warehouse 11 is in Indianapolis," Myka closed her eyes, looking at the territories map seared into her mind, trying to recall as much memory as she could at once, "But if that's where we were going, there are several air strips and airports closer. The only reason I can think of going to Lake County would be to get as close to the border of Illinois as possible while still remaining under the radar. From there, we'll probably drive the rest of the way."

"Right you are, Agent Bering," Jane nodded from where she sat reading at the seat closest to the door, "We don't want to have to clear our flight plans with anyone else, and as you pointed out, our influence to make people look the other way only goes as far as Lake County. I'll have more information for you after we land there."

Her voice was clinical, disinterested, and it made most of the agents mad. It made Pete Lattimer sad and confused. His whole life he had grown up with the belief that his mother was an elementary school teacher in small town Ohio. Though he figured that was what the Warehouse wanted, to have its council of Regents to be made up of the people you would least expect to have power. Nevertheless, it was going to take him a while to get used to the idea of his mom being some badass Regent.

It was a thankfully short flight, and two hours later, the agents stood on the abandoned tarmac, wondering where their supervisors had wandered off to after telling them to stay put. Before anyone could suggest they go off in search of the senior agents, they caught sight of two black vans approaching them steadily. They tensed before realizing it was Nielson behind the wheel of one, and Vanessa driving the other.

Pete, Myka, Claudia, Steve and Rebecca piled into the van that already held Vanessa and Jane while Leena, Jack, Abigale, Todd and Joshua got settled in to the other with Mrs. Fredric and Colonel Nielson.

As they continued their trip, it became too much for the agents, and they demanded to be told where they were going.

"South Dakota." Jane relented, knowing at least that the vehicles they were in now were safe from being monitored or bugged. Safe enough, at least, to share that much, "We are going to Univille, South Dakota, that's all you're getting from me until we arrive, though."

"That's a twelve hour drive!" Myka's jaw dropped.

"It is in fact," Jane closed her eyes as she relaxed into the passenger seat, "And I suggest you rest up while you can, we start our real work as soon as our feet hit the ground."

Claudia was uncomfortable with the thought of being trapped in the metal box for such a stretch of time, but for her at least, it was preferable to flying, though it would have cut their travel time considerably. She and Steve took the Regent's advice, and promptly closed their eyes, a music player shared between the two of them keeping them from listening in on the conversation behind them.

"Okay, _Myclopidia_," Pete lowered his voice, shooting a glance at his mother before ducking his head towards Myka and Rebecca, "What the hell is in Univille, South Dakota?"

"All I know is that South Dakota is smack in the middle of Brotherhood Territory." Myka frowned, "I'm surprised they're sending us all the way out there."

"You think if they were starting a new Warehouse they would send us to, I don't know, Illinois, or Wisconsin or Kentucky," Rebecca shook her head, "The Hive still controls those states, right?" she looked to Myka for conformation.

"That's what everyone expects them to do though, isn't it?" Myka argued, "And if they have decided to move on- because, let's face it, did we really think they were only going ot go after the Hive and leave the others alone?- they probably want to send in a recon team, hence the secrecy…" she trailed off.

"Well, what do we know about the Brotherhood?" Pete asked, his face scrunching up, surely he himself could think of something… but he had grown up in Ohio, which had been a Hive controlled state until the Warehouse took over. HE knew next to nothing about The Brotherhood or Manifestus Fatum. Hell, all he knew about the Republic of Texas was it was ran by the Texas Rangers after they over threw the state government nearly a hundred years prior.

Rebecca shrugged, "I can tell you anything you need to know about the Hive, but I grew up in Rockford, so that isn't surprising. The Mob's have never been one to share information between one another. Mykes?"

"Hey, I can tell you that Tommy Gentry started Manifestus in 2046, and that they were the biggest territory until Texas expanded. I can tell you it's currently ran by the Gentry Family and the Gomez family. I can tell you all about them and the crimes they got away with in Colorado. But the only thing I can tell you about the Brotherhood is they don't play well with others."

"I'm sensing a pattern here," Rebecca bit her lip, "Where are they from," she nodded her head to the dozing pair in the middle row.

"Steve is from Jersey, so he's a Warehouse boy." Pete supplied.

"And Claudia bounced around California until they picked her up." Myka stated, leaving out the details of just where they had picked Claudia up.

"Well, my mom's from North Canton, and Vanessa and Artie are both from New York," Pete nodded, "They worked for Warehouse 1."

"How did you know that?" Myka made a face.

"I got a vibe about it while we were there, like they knew their way around." Pete shrugged.

"A vibe, right" Rebecca and Myka exchanged a look.

"No, Agent Lattimer is correct," MARLE's voice buzzed around Myka's head, causing her to shake it back and forth, it was going to take some getting used to.

"What about the others?" Myka asked, shoulders sagging.

"Josh grew up in Southern California," Pete tried to hide his smug smile, knowing Myka and Rebecca had both expected him to be wrong.

"And Jack's from San Francisco." Rebecca added, not knowing how she remembered that bit of information, and hoped they wouldn't ask her.

"Leena and Mrs. Fredric are from DC," Myka continued on, sensing Rebecca's discomfort.

"Agent Cho is form Seattle, Washington and Agent Nolan is from Arkansas," MARLE supplied helpfully.

"So none of us are even from that territory," Myka concluded, "How do they expect us to know the first thing about the Brotherhood?"

No one thought it was a coincidence that they were all from the other territories, the Brotherhood's reach spreading over ten states. But they were left to wonder why. Twelve hours and one rest stop later, they still had no answers.

They had caught the other agents up on their musings, but sharing hadn't made the Warehouse's intentions any clearer.

It was two am when they entered the Univille city limits, but the city was thrumming, alive with activity even at this hour. Lights pulsed through the club districts, the sky scrapers were still lit as the businessmen burned the midnight oil, and there was a siren ringing every few minutes. It was hard to believe this was once a small town that went to bed predictable every evening at eight.

Despite having been seated for nearly the whole day, Myka was exhausted, and as she watched the neon and spotlights flash throughout the city, she found herself impatient for their journey to come to an end.

Much to her disappointment, they drove right through the city without stopping. When they were forty minutes from the pulsing city night life, Vanessa slowly brought the van to a stop and turned the head lights off, throwing them into near total darkness.

"What are we-?" Steve's question was cut off as Vanessa pushed the gas down once more, turning the wheel so they drove through the empty filed they had come to a rest at.

It was a terrifying and bumpy ride, each agent flailing for a hand hold, curding and saying their final prayers all to the background music of Vanessa laughing gleefully at their reactions, her passengers unaware of her night vision spectacles.

When they came to a screeching stop, the agents shoved each other out of the way to escape the madwoman's van. Shaky legs lead to them falling to their legs, kissing the steady ground as several of them fought back the urge to vomit.

It wasn't until Colonel Nielson's van pulled up beside them, having driven a reasonable speed, that they recovered enough to realize they were standing before an insanely large building.

"What the hell?" The agents stood side by side looking at the warehouse. It grew into the mountain, making it look like it was, and always had been, simply part of its surroundings.

"Welcome to Warehouse 13." Arthur gestured before walking to a door that seemed absurdly small in comparison, opening a side panel to type in the security code, "Well? Are you coming?"

The agent's scrambled to catch up.

"Explosive?" Pete mouthed, pointing to the tubes lining the pristinely white hall way.

"Don't touch the bombs!" Arthur barked over his shoulder with out missing a step in his stride.

Pete jerked his hand back, eyes wide.

They came to the second door, this one requiring a retina scan before its heacy steel swung inward, bringing them to a large office space.

It's walls held empty shelves and filing cabinets, the floor covered in dust and foot prints form previosu people stamping through.

"What is this place?" Leena asked for all of them.

"Warehouse 13." Arthur rolled his eyes, hadn't he already said that?

"Yeah, but the Warehouses are usually, ya know, in office buildings in the city." Jack argued, "Not in the middle of the country in an abandoned field."

"Well, the Warehouse's presence hasn't been a secret before this." Jane explained, "So instead, we decided to… _repurpose _an old IRS warehouse that the government never got around to bulldozing and selling off."

"IRS?" Pete tilted his head.

"That's what the Government Tax Collectors used to be called before." Myka explained.

Arthur lead them out of the office briefly to a catwalk that over looks a vast warehouse floor, filled with endless rows of shelves, all empty.

"Wow," Claudia gaped before smiling and shouting _wow_ once more so that it echoed infinitely back at them.

"We plan to turn it into a larger base, lawyer's offices, forensics departments, the works. But for now, it's not necessary, or strictly possible if we plan to stay under the radar." Jane herded them back into the office, around the desks with sleeping computers, to a small cluster of couches and chairs.

"Are you going to tell us what we're doing now?" Myka spoke up for them after taking her seat, choosing to perch on the arm of the sofa so she could stand at a moment's notice.

"As you have already guessed, we are here to do a recon of sorts on a new threat, now that the Hive has very nearly been eliminated, the Regents would like to get a head start on The Brotherhood." The regent paced back and forth in front of them, "What we know so far about the Brotherhood is surprisingly little. Unlike the Hive with it' single monarch, or Manifestus with its ruling families, there are three figure head's that run the territory. As far as we can tell, Univille is their base of operations."

She pulled forward a white board, rolling on wheels, on it were three pictures. Well, two pictures and one generic silhouette indicating a third.

"James MacPherson," she indicated to the first picture of a man with grey hair, looking down his hooked nose with disdain in his washed out brown eyes, "Aged 54, from Aberystwyth, Wales, an American citizen for the last thirty years. He is the most prominent of the three, most often seen, though never in connection to anything illegal. To the community he is a businessman, with his hand in everything from the financial market to half the clubs on the strip." She passed out the thin files containing the information they had on him.

"Walter Sykes," She moved on while they briefly thumbed through the few pages to the photo of a man with white blonde hair, and pale blue eyes, smirking dangerously at them, "Age 49, he's originally from Boston, we believe he _may_ have been a member of the Hive previously. He is seen as the CEO of a technology company, A to Z Tech, but through several traces, we also believe him to be involved in the darker sides of the night life going on in the city." She handed them another sadly thin file.

"And that one?" Myka nodded towards the final picture, the name beneath catching her attention, "Who's HG Wells? And why don't we have a picture?"

"Right," Jane sighed, "HG Wells is a phantom. A mixture of suburban folklore and horror story. Sometimes, he's seen as the Robin Hood of the city, cleaning up the messy bits that get out of hand. What he really is, is a pain in the ass. We know he runs a big part of The Brotherhood, but no one's been able to identify him, and most people don't believe he's a real person. HG Wells is most likely an alias, named for the nineteenth century author. So we have almost nothing on him save a few crimes he's been blamed for."

"So, what are we here for?" Pete asked, rubbing his eyes, fighting the exhaustion threatening to take over and resisting the urge to yawn, "What's our job? Start knocking on doors and investigating?"

"No," Jane shook her head at her son, "We're here undercover. Which is why none of you are from the territory, and your names have been erased from every database, save for your covers, which you'll have to memorize. You five," she pointed to the field agents, "Will try and infiltrate the Brotherhood, gain as much information as possible as we try to destroy them from the inside out." She had a thicker stack of files that she passed out now, each with the serial number of one of the agents stamped on the front, "Secord and St. Clair, you're investigating Vice Crimes."

"These are just sexist," Rebecca grumbled as she looked through her file, having been the first to receive hers, "Let me get this straight, you want me to take over the prostitution ring in the city?"

"Sykes' hands are all over them," Jane explained, "You yourself don't have to turn tricks, we would never ask that of you. What we need is for you to get the girls and boys working those streets to turn on their pimps and work for you instead. You'll catch Sykes' attention and hopefully he will try to get you on his pay roll. When we get to that point, we'll change up the plan so you can start to get information on him.

"Agent Secord, you are going to be the one to follow the drugs," she moved on, ignoring the look of disgust on Rebecca's face, "You need to go up the ranks there, from dealer, to distributer, until you find the supplier. We believe Sykes to be bankrolling it, but we need to know who his suppliers are."

"You've got to be shitting me," Myka scoffed upon receiving her file, interrupting Jane's explanations, "I'm with Becks, these seriously are sexist. What you want me to do is basically sleep my way up the food chain." She waved the file in front of her angrily.

"Agent Bering, please hear us," Jane tried to sooth her, "The so called "old ladies" are the back bones for these mobs. They know everything about everything. You can start there, _but_ if you see an opening to get a more desirable role in the Brotherhood, you're free to act with in your own digression. We'll be placing you in the places MacPherson and his men are known to frequent.

"And Agent Lattimer, you are going to try and work your way through the ranks, starting from the bottom as security for MacPherson and his men, and try and earn yourself more responsibility. And Agent Jinks, we'll be placing you in the Univille Police department. We want to know if it's run by the Brotherhood, or if they've become their own enterprise."

"Over-all, your responsibilities as undercover agents is recon," she looked to each of them, "We want as much information on the kings of this territory before we call in the reinforcemetns. AS it is, you are all authorized to commit crimes to solidify your role in the Brotherhood. Anything short of murder we can condone, so long as you can justify your actions in your reports, which you'll have to come in and write once a week.

"Anything else you need to know is in your files. What you need to remember is that you aren't who you were before. You are no longer Marines, or Rangers or Intelligence officers or homicide detectives. Learn your new identities better than you know yourselves. Don't let them catch you in a lie. We have contingency plans, but the people you see around you are all we have as back up for the foreseeable future."

With one last serious look at her field agents, Jane Lattimer went on to explain what was expected of the other agents.

Arthur was whom they all reported to. He would stay in the Warehouse 24/7, he would be the one that told them what to do when it was necessary.

Vanessa was a medical examiner, and would be placed in the coroner's office for the county so that she could look over every suspicious death and if they could link them to any member of the Brotherhood.

Abigale and Todd would be collecting evidence with the investigation bureau, insinuating themselves into the high profile crime scenes and reporting from the ground.

Leena and Joshua were starting up the lab, where any of the other agents could bring them samples for analysis and testing.

And Claudia was the most excited about her assignment. She was "Big Sister", and introduced to a giant room filled with computers. It was her job to do everything cyber related. Track money, hack the city grid, steal surveillance, and babysit the agents' vitals and sensory input. She couldn't wait to start her job, never before had she been given so much room to let her talent run rampant.

Lastly, as the sun was beginning to rise, Regent Lattimer finally did something that made everyone else smile as wide as Claudia. She told them where they would be living, and passed out the keys to their assigned vehicles.

Most of the agents were given low key cars that would easily blend in with the city, but the four Agents tasked with infiltrating the Brotherhood head on were given cars that matched with their backgrounds and duties.

Pete had a black SUV, heavily tinted windows with bullet proof doors and windows and plated tires. Jack was given a similar SUV that was much less modified, and a little older. Rebecca was gifted with a newer white Cadillac that had Pete drooling. Myka should have expected as much after reading just what her cover story was, but she found herself groaning regardless at the old yellow convertible that awaited her. She was, after all, supposedly running away from a bad life from the north, why should she have a nice car like the others?

The agents played follow the leader into the city after having been dismissed, each with the heading of an old bed and breakfast that was purchased by a Warehouse off shore account. They arrived mostly unnoticed, the city finally quieting down as the night light fell into their alcohol induced sleep and the working class had yet to leave for work. They had the intent to fall into bed immediately upon arriving, but curiosity go the better of most of them when they got to the quaint looking B&B.

With the ten younger agents living there, they were the only ones able to stay, a no-vacancy sign placed on the lawn. It was between the city and suburbs, blending in seamlessly with its surroundings. Painted white and blue with a manicured lawn, it was down-right homey.

The agents spent an hour or so exploring the rooms, finding their own quarters quiet easily. They had been filled to match up with their background stories and intended work, including the closets so they could blend in with the city life. After looking at what she was expected to wear, Myka almost missed the pant suits that were required of her back in Denver.

The agents collapsed on their beds, bot feeling bad about sleeping when they knew most of their jobs wouldn't begin until the sun set.

After all, they would really need the rest with the work they had waiting for them that night.


	10. Instinct

**Chapter Nine**: Instinct

The clothes Myka found in her closet had her gulping. She didn't know what she expected to find, but after discovering dresser drawers full of an absurd amount of lace and silk, she had convinced herself it couldn't be worse. And besides, _those _would be covered- in theory at least.

Now looking at the clothes that hung in neat rows on black hangers, all of which seemed to be a size too small despite what their labels claimed, she wasn't so sure.

She was going through them one at a time, trying to find something that wouldn't make her blush just _looking_ at, when there was a knock at her bedroom door. The caller didn't wait for her to answer, choosing instead to simply walk in without invitation.

Myka sighed, but it was half-hearted. None of the agents on her team ever seemed to respect the symbol of a closed door. In reality, she was lucky they had bothered to knock at all. Normally they didn't even announce their presence, or she would find them sitting on her bed waiting for her return. She supposed she shouldn't have expected that to change just because they were no longer at the New York training facility.

The steady tapping of high heels across the wood floor had her glancing with slight curiosity over her shoulder, so used to the soft thump of tennis shoes or the near silent shuffling of socked feet. What she saw had her spinning quickly around.

"I feel fucking ridiculous," Rebecca declared as she stood before Myka, hands on her hips, daring Myka to say something contrary to what she was feeling.

Myka couldn't quite recall how to form words or control her eyes as they roamed freely over her friend's form. The dangerously short, black skirt coupled with the suicide heels making her toned legs look impossibly long, the blood red button down shirt tied so her midriff was on display. Her hair fell in heavy auburn waves, tumbling around her shoulders. Her sever make-up magnifying her smirk and quirked eye brow as she watched Myka flounder for something to say.

"You have a belly button piercing." Was what finally came tripping off Myka's tongue.

Rebecca scoffed and rolled her eyes before snapping her fingers in front of Myka's face, "If you're done ogling me, I want to see what outfits the Regents have deemed practical for someone sleeping their way up the Mob food chain. So have you picked something yet?"

Myka's lip twitched in disdain when reminded of what her particular mission was, to fuck the secrets out of the mobsters, apparently. Not that she wasn't going to do everything in her power to change that to something less demeaning. Such as maybe join the Brotherhood herself. When was everyone going to stop living like they were stuck hundred years ago? Was it so crazy to have a woman in a powerful position?

"I can't believe they give the cool undercover assignments to the guys and stick us in the leather and high heels." Myka groaned before turning back to her closet.

"You got leather?" Rebecca piped up, "No way, let me see-,"

"Nuh-uh," Myka slammed her closet doors shut, blushing furiously as she used her body as a barrier between her closet and her friend, "Besides, shouldn't you be, I don't know, out turning tricks or something?"

"You're no fun," Rebecca rolled her eyes, "I just wanted to check in with you before I went out for the night, you have my number right? I don't care what they say, if you need me to back you up, I'll be there."

Pete and Myka, both assigned to MacPherson's trail, had been deemed partners. The same went for Rebecca and Jack, whose goal was to track Sykes. But Myka knew she would drop anything if any one of her team members called for help. It was nice to know some felt the same for her.

"And what about you?" Myka tried to turn the mushy feelings into normal banter, "If you get into trouble, you'll, what, stab them with a high heel?"

"No, I'm armed." Rebecca argued.

Myka couldn't help her eyes from searching over Rebecca's body once more, "Uh, where?"

Rebecca merely chuckled and turned on her heel with a wink, "I'll see you in the morning, Mykes."

"Have fun hooking!" Myka called out after her with a smile before groaning and going back to the task at hand. Surely there had to be something that wasn't too bad on her…

* * *

Steve Jinks was nervous, and he was afraid it would show in the form of soaking his uniform in sweat. The setting sun had relieved the town of some of the stifling heat, but it didn't feel that way to the under-cover agent as he pulled at the starched collar around his neck.

He glanced up at the clock for the hundredth time since sitting. It was as if the hand hadn't moved at all.

The police chief had sat him there as he checked out his story. That he was a transfer from another district. Fear was rotting in Steve's stomach that he would be found out before he could even start the job.

The chief came an unhappy scowl on his face, a heavy giant as he strode to Steve's seat, he had a blonde woman, an officer, in toe, her face no less unhappy.

"Officer Jinks," The chief finally smiled a bit, "Welcome to the force. I hope you don't mind if we start you on a shift already. You know how it is, when the temperature goes up, so does the crime rate. We'll start you on the night shift, eight to four. This is your partner." His scowl returned as he waved to the blonde.

That's when Steve realized that he hadn't been found out, the grimace wasn't for him, but rather for the woman he was with. He had done it, he had gotten the job! He was in! Steve was on his feet, hand out to her.

"Hi, I'm Steve," he shook his head, "Jinks. Steve Jinks." He swallowed.

The blonde smiled slowly as she looked him up and down before finally accepting his hand, "Sally Stokowski," her voice was dripping with honey, a southern accent softening it to deceptively sweet, "And while I must say it is a real pleasure to meet you, Stevie, I don't need a partner."

"And as I told you," The chief barked at her, "You don't have a choice, it's department policy. And as I told you last time, if you chase another one off, it won't stop us from replacing them again." He stomped off to his office without another word.

"Well," Sally turned back to her newest partner, "I guess we better get started then." She pulled her long, corn silk hair up, "I don't know what backwoods town you came from, but let me assure you, this is no small town."

Steve nodded, "Let's go then."

"Let's." She smiled before leading him off, trying to decide if this Steve Jinks would be so different from those who had to learn the hard way that she didn't play nice with others.

* * *

Jack, his hair having grown over the last few months, had slicked his hair back with a ridiculous amount of gel, allowing him to blend in well with the shady individuals crawling around his half of the city club scene.

He had dressed in a tacky silk shirt, dark jeans, and ostentatious shoes. One too many rinds adorned his fingers, and a fake Rolex encircled his wrist.

He strolled the avenue, watching carefully the dealings going on around him. It took no time at all to identify who the local dealers were and what they were selling. The clientele where interesting enough, seeing who was buying, and what certain types of people tended to buy. Business men being slipped bags of white powder, a few twitchy individuals taking off-white, nearly brown powder, teenagers and young adults seemed to favor the green stuff.

Jack scoffed, this was going to be too easy. He was authorized to make deals, and had a few bags of nearly everything being sold that night on him. But how was he going to get people to buy from him? Drug addicts were creatures of habit, they weren't going to seek out someone they didn't know.

So instead, he made himself appear as if he belonged, mimicked the stances of the dealers he saw. He put his sun glasses on, despite the only light available at the hour was the dim street laps and the flashing neon. He picked a corner, in-between a shady massage parlor and a liquor store, and leaned against it casually, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it between his lips.

Now all he could do was wait to find a contact for him.

* * *

Rebecca thought wearing what she was would make her feel degraded. But, for some reason, the dropping jaws mixed with the steady sound of her heels clicking against the pavement served as a confidence booster as she slowly gave in to the persona that had been created for her.

She walked right past Jack, who did a double take but didn't otherwise acknowledge her. She wasn't even completely sure he had recognized her. It didn't take the sting form it though, the fact that they hadn't spoken since leaving the Facility. She was trying her damnedest to not let that bother her.

God, she hated him something awful.

She had spent the last two months trying to figure out if he was a good guy pretending to be an asshole because he was uncomfortable with the situation, pretending to be an asshole because he wanted to hide what he was feeling, pretending to be an asshole because his emotional pool ran shallow, _or_ if he was genuinely an asshole.

The latter seemed more likely now that he seemed to be avoiding her like the bubonic plague since their… well, whatever the fuck that was between them after drinking far too much their last night at the facility…

Whatever, if he was going to be so blasé about it, she was damn sure not going to let it affect her. Especially not now that she had an actual job to do.

With that thought in mind, she fixed her stride, zeroing in on the women she could see working the streets. She would need to work a special brand of charm she hadn't tried before. She needed people to want to work for her. They would still be stuck in the same shitty life, hopefully they wanted it to be a little more comfortable for them.

She popped her gum as she zeroed in on one woman. She couldn't have been older that nineteen, and from the looks of the conversation she was having with the man twice her age, she was the perfect target to flip.

She put her phone against her ear so she wouldn't look like she was talking to herself, "LANA," she let her eyes wander, seemingly aimlessly over the crowds, always reverting back to the girl and man locked in a heated conversation, "I need you to run a check on those two. Man, in his late thirties, black hair, at my two o'clock, and the girl in the animal print skirt and pink halter top."

"You've got it," Her AI chirped in his decidedly feminine voice.

When she had first been getting acquainted with her AI, she thought it odd that the computer with a female voice would identify as male. But as he pointed out for her, he was only programmed with a female voice by the hacker who wrote his code. But she had just gone with it, deciding it was up to him, and she didn't care either way.

"Zeke Killian," LANNA came through a moment later, "Thirty four, Univille citizen, arrested four times for illegal trafficking, and another five for battery and assault. No convictions. And the girl is Taylor 'Candy' Bryant, twenty. Ran away from home at sixteen, originally from Kingsbury County. Arrested twice for solicitation. No convictions."

"Can you get into hospital records for Bryant?" Rebecca asked, still looking for her angle, keeping her voice low, though no one was paying her much attention. She was blending in disturbingly well with the crowd that crawled this underbelly of the city.

"I can't get any specifics, but I can tell you she should have a bed reserved for her in the ER for the amount of times she's visited." If LANA was real, Rebecca would have thought he was shaking his head as he spoke.

"Got it," Rebecca nodded before putting the phone away, decision made.

She knew throwing herself between a prostitute and her pimp wasn't the smartest decision. But it was the only one she could think of off the top of her head, and she really hoped all those hours spent sparing with her fellow agents would pay off.

* * *

They'd given Pete an in. It was nearly as good as Jinks', but while Steve's position was a given, Pete had a more fragile chance. Where Steve was walking on a steel cable hundreds of feet in the air, Pete was shimmying his way across a stretch of floss holding him the same hundreds of feet in the air, only sharks awaited him at the bottom.

He was sitting at the back of some seedy club called _Curiosity_, the music blasting through the bass blown speakers muted as he sat across from three other large men in a private booth. While it definitely was not his scene, Pete was at least glad he and Myka had been placed on the north end of the strip, an area that catered more to college life and the middle class.

While he was sure there was some shady business going on around him, he was sure it was nothing compared to the night the two other undercover agents must've been having.

"So, Lattimer," the front man, Justin Hall, let his icy eyes glare through Pete, and the ex-marine had to call on all his training not to break under the pressure, "You were in the military?" he went on when Pete's only reaction to the intimidation was to call on his inner Myka and quirk an expectant eyebrow at him.

"Well, that depends on your definition of military," Pete crossed his arms, not quite used to the tight fabric of the black t-shirt stretching across his chest. He would feel much safer if he had on his Kevlar, "I never worked under a flag, but I was sent in to handle… difficult situations."

"And you left being a mercenary to join a security company?" Hall challenged.

Pete knew full well this security company was a front for MacPherson's personal army, and he was guessing the man across from him now knew Pete had that information, "What can I say? I was looking to slow down, not completely stop. Guy like me can't just retire and golf. I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

"Look, Lattimer," Hall seemed to relax, "Pete, you seem like a good enough guy, but we don't trust outsiders too easily. That being said, we don't want to give you up only to have another… security company to pick you up. So, until we can find something a bit more befitting of the skills a man such as yourself has acquired, we'll higher you on as club security. For _this _club. You understand?"

"I understand," Pete nodded, "But once you finally get your head out of your ass and realize you could use me for a lot more than babysitting the privileged college kids, I expect that job, how did you put it, more _befitting_ my particular skill set." He was calling on ever badass he had seen in every movie to pull this off, but a part of him worried it wasn't going to work.

For a moment, Hall just stared at Pete, trying to read him. Whatever he saw, however, had him cracking a grin, "I like you Lattimer. What do you say you start tonight, and we'll draw up the papers for you tomorrow?" He stuck his hand out.

Pete accepted the hand shake, and the men all rose from the table together and went about normal banter with one another as they moved to their stations and Hall took Pete to the office. He wasn't so naive to think that he was out of the woods with his cover just yet.

As they had pointed out, they didn't trust easily. And this was going to be one rough trial run. Of that he was sure.

* * *

Despite having slept most of the day away so she could stay awake for the nocturnal side of the city, when three am found Myka, she was exhausted. Her feet were aching, and while the clothes she ultimately pulled from the closet were mild in comparison to the rest, she was supremely uncomfortable in them.

She had been bar and club hopping since ten, trying to get a fee for the different joints in town, seeing if she could pick out the few she suspected of being involved with the darker elements of Univille. She had only allowed herself half a drink at each stop, not near enough for her liking. Not enough to make her comfortable in her own skin, and for damn sure not enough to make her comfortable with the presence of other people.

This was it, she decided, the last club for the night. She hadn't even gone the whole strip, but if she got groped one more time, she wasn't going to be able to stop herself from doing something stupid, like breaking the poor guy's arm.

There was a different feel about this place, what was it called? She couldn't quite remember, not having bothered to look at the sign over the door. But the music was different from the last five places. Not much, but enough that it caught her off guard, and was almost a relief to her ears.

People were dancing, people were always dancing, but this too was slightly different. The patrons were moving with abandon. The atmosphere was darker, the lights less harsh, a heaviness settled over the place. Though it wasn't uncomfortable. On the contrary, this was the first establishment that Myka had walked into that she didn't want to immediately leave.

She winds her way to the bar, already deciding that, since this was her last stop, and she could have more than half a beer here. It was packed, and while people were gyrating against each other over almost every inch of the place, it was rather easy to weave her way through.

It was her luck that someone abandoned their stool as she arrived, sweaty and panting, part of her itching to join the carefree souls on the dance floor.

The bartender noticed her as soon as she walked through the doors. She had merely glanced up from the endless stream of drink orders pouring their way into her, but what she saw had her looking for a lot longer than was probably appropriate.

While the woman's tight black jeans and leather jacket helped her blend in with the crowd, something about her was setting her apart in the bar tenders mind. Something that didn't quite fit. Something intriguing.

For the time being, she had to turn her attention back to the drink orders, so she didn't realize the woman was now sitting four feet away from her.

Myka was watching the bartender move through the different drink orders with ease, never having to ask a customer to repeat an order or double check ingredients. She moved with a grace Myka though absurd to see behind a bar. Her dark hair swished with every twist and turn she made, it was what had caught Myka's attention in the first place. And now she found she couldn't take her eyes off of her.

Myka noticed, in the minutes she sat there, that drink orders came in waves, and this last one was reaching its end for the time being. So that when the woman turned almost unconsciously to one of the few remaining bodies at her bar, Myka had her full attention.

"Hello, can I fetch something for you?" Her voice sounded odd to Myka, the accent catching her off guard slightly. She was almost convinced the woman was faking it, but it was a ridiculous notion, and an even more ridiculous accent to fake, so Myka quickly brushed it off.

"Yes I need a drink," Myka smiled, finding herself trapped in the gaze of the beautiful woman behind the counter.

"I figured that's what brought you here," the woman smirked, "What would you like?"

"Hmmm," Myka made a show of letting her eyes wander to the racks of alcohol behind her, "Long island?" It was an old drink that Myka knew people used to order quite frequently in bars, but the trend had fallen out. It was a sort of test for the bartender, one Myka didn't understand why she was giving, but the challenge was clear in her gaze.

The bartender pursed her lips for a moment before pulling out a tall glass, she scooped ice into it before filling it with the four types of alcohol required, and when she stuck a straw in it and slid it to Myka, both woman were smiling at each other.

"You'll have to try a bit harder than that, darling, if you're planning on tripping me up at work." The bartender shook her head, her dark hair curtaining her face for a moment before she ran her hand through it, brushing it back with a wicked grin.

Myka took a huge gulp of her drink when the other woman was distracted with another customer. Then another. She needed the courage to flirt with the beautiful woman, she decided, taking another drink.

It was half empty when the bartender came back around.

"How's the drink,-?" she trailed off with a tilt to her head.

"Myka," she supplied.

"Emily," the other woman smiled, "So? Did I pass your little challenge?"

"For now," Myka allowed with a chuckle, enjoying the warmth the drink was offering her, "Don't take this the wrong way, Emily, but what is up with this place? I've been to a few other clubs in town but this one is…." She trailed off with the shake of her head.

"You're new to town, aren't you?" Emily's dark eyes were lit by humor as she looked over Myka slowly.

"Guilty," Myka nodded.

"Well, Instinct is different from the other pubs in town, that's for sure." Emily looked around, "The mood seems to change each night… you should see this place on Friday night."

"Maybe I will," Myka took another drink, not letting her eyes stray form Emily's as she did it, "That is, if you'll be here to accept another drink challenge from yours truly."

Emily smiled, "If the day ends with a y, I shall be here. I'm the only one who works the bar."

"Doesn't that get hectic?" Myka tilted her head.

"Terribly so," Emily nodded, "I've been meaning to get some help. Say, you wouldn't happen to know how to make any of these drinks?" Emily quirked an eyebrow.

"A few, but I am a quick study," Myka found herself leaning on her elbows, ever so closer to the bartender.

"If you'd like to pick up a few shifts with me…"

Emily's offer was interrupted when a large man stumbled into the seat beside Myka with a huff, facing her with a crooked smile that would have been endearing if not for the stench of alcohol that clung to him.

"Hey, gorgeous," He drawled to her, "You're new around here, aren't you? I mean, I work MacPherson's places, and I haven't seen you around here…"

"Kurt," Emily's voice was low with warning, something dark flashed in her eyes, so quickly that Myka wasn't all together sure she'd actually seen it.

"Having a conversation here Em," the man- Kurt- growled at her.

Emily rolled her eyes and went to the other end of the bar where a patron was hailing her.

"I am new here," Myka bit down her disappointment at the other woman's retreat, but Kurt's mention of MacPherson was the first she heard of the man that whole night, "And I thought this place was Instinct, not MacPherson's…?" Myka trailed off, doing her best to sound ditzy.

"Oh, sweetie," he drunkenly shook his head, "Every club is MacPherson's, he owns the strip." He hiccupped, "But enough about my stuffy boss, let me buy you a drink."

"I would really like that, but," Myka let her hands drift over Kurt's arm, swallowing the disgust she felt at the contact, "I'm working," she hoped up onto the bar before sliding over to the opposite end with a wink at a chuckling Emily.

Kurt smiled at her, ignoring the subtle brush off, "I guess that mean's I can catch you here later then?"

"Of course." Myka nodded.

As Kurt sauntered away in search of another target, Emily sidled up next to Myka, "I see you've decided to accept my offer then?"

Myka suppressed the shutter that threatened her when Emily's breath brushed over her neck, and instead, turned with a flirty smile, "Girls' gotta make a living? Why not have fun while you're at it?"

"I guess I'll need your full name then, and phone number then," Emily took a step so she was in Myka's personal space, "If I'm going to be making checks out to you, I mean."

"Bering," Myka's voice was lower than she meant it to be, so she had to clear her throat and repeat it, "Myka Bering." She stuck her hand out, blaming the alcohol she'd consumed for her dizziness.

""Emily Lake," she accepted the hand, though she held it for longer than necessary, and the women stood staring at each other until patrons calling for drinks pulled them out of their small world.

Emily winked at Myka and set her loose on the customers.

"Oh boy," Myka huffed, knowing as she shot her new boss' stellar figure one more fleeting glance, that this undercover job might just have a few perks she wasn't counting on, before turning to the impatient customers, "What can I get you?"


	11. Show Me How to Lie

**Chapter Ten:** Show Me How to Lie (I'm Getting Better All the Time)

"Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off,"* Rebecca sighed with a smile as she fell into the oversized reading chair in the living room of the B&B, Abigale lowered her newspaper and coffee, quirking her eyebrow at the agent as she kicked off the six inch stilettoes she had been wearing for the last nine hours.

She groaned as she slowly relaxed into the cushions, her back cracking in protest at first, but the relief to be off her feet greatly over shadowed it.

"Dare I ask how your night was?" Abigale spoke when Rebecca's make-up painted eyelids began to slip closed.

Rebecca snorted, rolling her head to look the forensics agent. At first, she had ben envious of Abigale and Leena, they had received normal nine to five jobs. And despite the night she had, she found herself changing her mind, suddenly glad she got the assignment she did.

"I kicked a pimp in the knee." She sung smugly, "And that was before I broke his nose."

"What?" Abigale chocked on the coffee she tried to sip.

Rebecca went on to tell Abigale how, after seeing the confrontation between the young girl and her pimp, she rushed in.

* * *

_She stepped between the two, Killian immediately dropping Candy's arm. The girl seemed so surprised and grateful as the older woman stepped between the two._

"_What's going on?" Rebecca kept her voice sounding slightly amused as she looked over her shoulder at Candy then back to the man, "Domestic dispute?"_

"_This ain't none of your business!" Killian barked at her, taken slightly aback at having a woman be at eye level with him, overcompensating instead by puffing his chest out._

"_You like beating up on girls, Killian?" Rebecca sneered at him, "I've heard about you, more of your girls ending up in the hospital than anyone else's. You're not compensating for something, are you?" she let her eyes trail down to Killian's pants before smirking._

"_Why you little," he made a move to back hand Rebecca._

_She caught him by the wrist a few inches form her face, "Big mistake." She shook her head before bringing her foot up, thrusting it at Killian's leg, she felt a crack radiate upwards as she connected with his knee._

_He cried out in pain as he fell to the pavement on his other knee, but before he could react, Rebecca swung her own hand, her knuckles breaking Killian's already crooked nose, his head snapping to the side. _

_He swayed for a minute before crumpling to the ground, groaning up to the street lights. _

"_What the fuck?" his voice was nasally and blood was pouring down his cheeks._

"_Listen here, Zekey," Rebecca put her heel into the dip between his collar bones, digging enough to make him choke, "I'm going t obe running here for a while. So if you see me, or one of my girls, you look the other way. Otherwise not only will I come back and kick your dumb ass, I'll make sure to do it in front of those powerful friends of yours. I mean, what's worse? Getting your ass handed to you by a girl infront of the men who hold your balls in their hands, or giving up this little life of yours, hm? Retire somewhere nice with the money you've collected from your girls. I think you're done."_

_She spun on her toes and strode away._

"_Holy shit!" Candy scrambled to catch up with her, "You are a total bad ass!"_

"_Thanks," Rebecca quircked an eyebrow._

"_So, um, are you, like new around here?" Candy dodged around other working girls, wishing people just moved out of her way like they seemd to for this woman she didn't know, "What's your name?"_

"_Becks," Rebecca answered, figuring it was better to use her nickname, "And yeah, I decided to take my business elsewhere."_

"_So, are you a working girl too, or…?"_

"_Listen," Rebecca came to a sudden stop, turning to face the girl, "Candy, was it? Look, you ask a lot of questions, but since a beat down usually puts me in a good mood, I'll answer yours. No, I don't turn tricks. I run a service though. At least I used to. The girls who work for me, I'll get them in better shape. They make more then those walking the streets, and they'll have it a lot safer."_

"_What, like a club?" Candy tilted her head._

"_Not yet," Rebecca shrugged, "Like I said, I'm new to town. I have to build a base first. Recruit some girls. Hey, you wouldn't know of any looking to change it up, would you?"_

"_Uh, I know I am!" Candy laughed, "Since you just told my guy to skip town, I can think of a few others who'll be interested I think."_

"_Fantastic," Rebecca smiled, glad she could think on her feet this quickly, "Step into my office and we'll go over the specifics…" She tilted her head towards the club they'd stopped in front of._

* * *

At some point during her recounting of the night, Leena and Claudia had joined them in the living room. Claudia was rumpled in her pajamas, but listening with rapt interest, hanging on to every word of Rebecca's story. Leena sat, put together and ready for her day, with a small smile and the every so often shake of her head.

"Candy is right, you are a total bad ass." Claudia declared, and Rebecca just shrugged.

They glanced up as Steve walked through the front door. He stood in the foyer for a moment, looking lost, before turning and joining the women in the, he grabbed a pillow as he collapsed on the couch, laying sideways and pulling his knees up in front of him, his head on Claudia's lap. There was a haunted look in his eye as he stared off into space/

"Jinksy?" Claudia asked, brushing his short hair off his forehead, "Everything okay?"

He shook his head.

The women looked at one another, concern for their fellow agent dominate in them, "What happened?" Claudia asked softly.

"I had to," he swallowed, "I had to tackle a guy…"

"And?" Now they were just confused, "Doesn't that just come with the job?"

"He was two hundred pounds," Steve continued, "And naked… and high on hallucinogens. He was all sweaty and… and…" Steve shook his head, "I think I hate my partner. She's the devil, I know it."

Claudia had to bite on her knuckle to keep the laughter from spilling over her lips, Rebecca was having a similar problem, pressing a pillow into her face to muffle the sounds. Abigale simply shook her head and turned to the next page of news.

Leena was the only one to show any sympathy, patting his head lovingly as she walked to the kitchen, "I'll go make you some chocolate chip waffles."

Rebecca struggled to her feet, "I am going to go take the world's hottest shower, and then fall into bed." She declared before moving for the stairs.

Jack was the next one to come home, he immediately fell into the chair Rebecca had vacated. He looked questioningly at Steve, opening his mouth to ask what the hell was wrong with him, but Claudia shook her head sharply at him, and Jack figured he was better off not knowing anyhow.

"So, Jackie Boy," Claudia said instead, tilting her head at jack's black eye, "How was your day, and if you beat Becks' or Jinks' stories, you get a gold star."

Jack leaned forward a bit, reaching into his pants pocket, pulling out an untidy wad of cash, dropping them on the table between them, "Well, I sold all of my product, and I got my eye on someone to be my inside man."

"And the, uh," she gestured to his face.

"Oh, that's how I met him," Jack explained, "I was selling on his turf. We got into a scuffle, and when I kicked his ass, he decided maybe he and I were better being friends. I told him I was new to town, selling the last of my stash, but that I was looking for a new connect. He said he'd see what he could do."

"How do guys do that?" Claudia shook her head, "How do you get in a full on fist fight with another dude, and both of you come out on the other side dude bros for life?"

Jack shrugged, smirking at the redhead, "Girls let their emotions get in the way of everything."

"Wow, that," Claudia shook her head, "That is the most misogynistic thing you've said this week."

"And it's only Wednesday," he swiped his nails on his shirt before looking at them.

Their laughter was interrupted by the door opening once more.

Pete walked through the living room, wanting nothing more than to scarf down what ever food he could get his hands on.

Jack, Claudia, Abigale and Steve stared at him, slack jawed. He was half way through the living room before he notice the attention. He slowed to a stop, slowly lowering his foot to the ground.

"What?" He demanded.

"Dude is that glitter?" Claudia demanded, looking at the vast amounts of sparkles covering Pete's black shirt.

"And you have some… paint on you." Abigale added, eyeing the lip imprints made with effervescent paint decorating Pete's neck.

"Dude," Jack snorted, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." His face flushed red as he hurried towards the kitchen, the room erupting in laughter behind him.

* * *

The only one who hadn't trudged back to the B&B as soon as they were able was Myka, and that's because she felt like she had some where better to be.

They were wiping down the counters in companionable silence. It was nearing five am, and the club had been closed for about thirty minutes. There were other people cleaning tables and the floor, but Emily didn't trust anyone behind her bar. She knew where everything was, and it was exactly how she wanted it.

Cleaning the bar was a small price to pay for knowledge that no one would move anything. She had told Myka she could leave, but Myka smiled and asked her to hand over the other damp dish rag. They each started at opposite ends of the bar, slowly moving in ward.

"You did pretty well for your first night." Emily spoke up when they were little more than two feet from each other.

"It was only an hour," Myka shrugged, "And I think the fact that I didn't drop anything with the only thing that makes it a success. I didn't understand half the drink orders…"

"Whoa there, Myka," Emily laughed, putting her hand on Myka's arm, "First things first, my dear, you need to learn how to take a compliment."

Myka blushed as she grinned adorably, "Right, I'll be sure to work on that."

"Until then, how about you and me go get some breakfast." Myka was having trouble listening to what she was saying, far too distracted by the way Emily's lips brushed against one another as they formed words.

"What?" Myka blinked, blaming her nonexistent attention span on her exhaustion.

Emily's eye brow quirked as a salacious grin spread across her face, "You, me, a booth at the diner? You do eat breakfast where ever it is you're from, right?"

"Breakfast?" Myka repeated back the word, "Yeah, of course." She cleared her throat, her face growing hot.

"Aces," Emily smiled before lifting the section of the counter on a hinge, "After you then."

Myka was mentally kicking her own ass as she allowed Emily to lead her out of the bar. Myka blinked against the sun that she found waiting for them. She hadn't thought to grab a pair of sunglasses before leaving, she honestly didn't think the sun would be up before she got home.

Emily was distracted watching Myka adjust herself to the blinding light, her own ogling hidden behind her sunglasses. She had known Myka was beautiful from the moment she first lay eyes on her in the club. But that was in the dim, smoke filled club. Here in the daylight, Emily's heart thumped a bit faster.

They walked to a diner Emily had never bothered to get the name of, but one that she had visited often, having become attached to the routine it afforded her.

"This place looks a bit different in the daylight," Myka commented as she looked around, watching taxies and cars blur past at speeds she knew could not be legal.

"Of course, wouldn't want the reputation of this respectable business city to be sullied by drunkards." Emily grumbled, and Myka could sense real heat behind the words, "So while the officials allow a bit of leniency while the sun is down, when it comes back up, everyone is expected to play their parts."

"How long have you lived here?" Myka asked, trying ot pin point where all the animosity was coming from.

"I moved here from Wisconsin eight years ago," Emily got a faraway look in her eye for a moment, the smile still plastered on her face no longer reaching her eyes.

"That explains the funny accent." As soon as the words came out of Myka's mouth she wanted to take them back with a shotgun.

"Funny accent?" Humor returned to Emily's face as she smirked at Myka, "You think I have a funny accent?"

"Well, yeah." She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the heat spread over her face, "I mean, I couldn't quite place it, it's so different than what I'm used to hearing."

"Oh? And to where do I attribute your _funny accent_," She mimicked Myka's voice.

Myka laughed, but she scrambled to remember her cover, "I'm, uh, Canadian."

"I'm terribly sorry," Emily laughed.

Myka shrugged, taking the joke as retaliation for her pointing out Emily's accent, "Hey, it happens to the best of us."

They were still chuckling when they arrived at the small, retro styled diner, and Myka held the door out for her companion this time.

The hostess greeted Emily by her name, something Myka made note of, there was real fondness from the older woman as they smiled through pleasantries. They were brought to a back booth, the hostess leaving to get them coffee.

Before Myka could open her mouth to start a new conversation, a man dressed in a busboy uniform, compete with a grey tub half filled with dishes, stopped by the table.

"Hey, uh, Emily?" He was smiling, but something about the way his grey eyes darted from Myka back to Emily, the slight waver in his voice, made the greeting come out sounding like a question, "Didn't think I'd see ya today."

"Wolly," Emily smiled up at him.

"Who's your, er, friend?" He smiled down at Myka, and it was an infectious grin that Myka reciprocated easily.

"Wolly, this is Myka," Emily sighed, realizing no matter how long she glared, the man wouldn't take the hint and walk away, "Myka, this is my friend, Wolly."

"It's nice to meet you," Myka offered her hand to the busboy.

Wolly wiped his hands on the apron strung around his waist before shaking Myka's hand, "Pleasure's mine."

"You are absolutely gorgeous," Wolly spoke brazenly, "How is it you become acquainted with our… Emily?"

"Wolly," Emily snapped, "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Right, then, hint taken," Wolly nodded and stepped back, "I'll see you later Em. Myka, I do hope to see you around." He winked.

"I'm sorry," Emily turned to her, "He's…"

"English," Myka tilted her head, as she watched him leave. There hadn't been much international travel to the United States in the last ten years, it had become rather odd to run into someone who wasn't American in everyday activity.

"I did notice," Emily smirked, a hidden joke in her eyes, "I was going to say best friend, though. Boundaries tend to be ignored by Wolly."

"I know the feeling well," Myka nodded, thinking of her own friends, "I moved here with a few friends, and none of them seem to respect the sanctity of a closed door."

"Tell me Myka," Emily leaned forward, "How on earth did you end up in Univille, South Dakota?"

"I…" Myka took a breath, "I made a few mistakes, mistakes that were quickly catching up to me. And I had to get out, start fresh."

"See, I knew you were too perfect," Emily laughed, "I see your flaw is a dark past then?"

"Something like that." Myka took a sip from her coffee, needing a barrier suddenly between her and Emily's searching eyes.

"_C'est la vie_," Emily shrugged before relaxing back into the chair, "But I see your past is a touchy subject, so let's do the small talk madness through our breakfast instead."

"I'll give it a shot," Myka nodded with a smile, "Small talk has never been my strong suit." She admitted.

"Nonsense." She waved a hand, "Where shall we start…"

They spent the next hour talking, without realizing much time was passing at all. Plates disappeared, and drinks were refilled all without notice. They spoke about inconsequential things, nothing of great importance by anyone's standards. But it was still the best conversation Myka could remember having in a long time. And, as promised, all topics concerning their pasts were avoided.

_Not really a bad first date…_ Myka found herself thinking before ohysically shaking the thoughts from her head.

No, she couldn't get involved with Emily, not as more than a friend or boss. She had a job to do. And even if she was one of those people who could easily juggle their relationship and work, then came the decision on whether Myka would tell her just what she really did for a living? How much would she tell her, if at all? Would she be willing to put that on another person?

She really had to stop this thing before it got started. She couldn't let herself get lost in the dark eyes watching her with so much curiosity and humor. She couldn't let herself daydream about running her hands through the long dark locks that now cascaded around her shoulders. She _had_ to stop watching Emily's lips move so intently while imagining what they tasted like…

Myka suddenly stood up from the booth.

"Is everything alright?" Emily pulled back, started at the flash of panic in Myka's eyes.

"Yeah," Myka made a show of stretching, "I just… I've been up far too long. I need to get home and get to sleep if I'm going to be at work on time. My new boss seems like a real hard ass." She smiled as Emily too stood up, pulling several bills from her back pocket and dropping them on the table.

"I'm sure you want to impress your boss." Emily allowed, her smile a bit sad now that their time together was coming to an end.

Wolly waved from the back as Myka and Emily stepped out. Myka returned the wave shyly, suppressing a yawn. Now that she mentioned sleep, she seemed to realize _just _how tired she actually was.

They stood facing each other for a moment in front of the diner, neither really knowing how to leave this, "I suppose I'll see you tonight then?" Emily offered the nervous looking Myka.

"Yeah, I'll be there." Myka nodded, taking a step back, refusing to give in to the urge to kiss Emily right then as she smirked, "Bye." She gave an awkward wave, that Emily found unbearably adorable, before quickly turning on her heel and walking away.

"Myka," Emily called out, waiting for her to turn to face her once more, "Come by the club an hour or so before it opens. That way it'll be just me and you. So I can show you a thing or two behind the bar." She winked before continuing on her way.

"I am in so much trouble," Myka groaned to herself, unable to take her eyes off Emily's retreating figure.

* * *

_**AN: ***__In which I shamelessly use my favorite Panic! At The Disco song title as well as The Offspring._


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